I 


Jjistitute  of  lii^ustrial  Selatio^^ 

University  of  California 

Los  Angeles  S4,  CStiifdriii^ 


Digitized  by  tiie  Internet  Arciiive 
in  2013 


http://arcliive.org/details/socialproblemsOOgeor_0 


Social  Problems, 


BY 


HENET    GEORGE, 

Author  of  "  Progress  and  Poverty." 


"  There  is  in  human  affairs  one  order  which  is  the  best.  That  order 
is  not  always  the  one  which  exists ;  hut  it  is  the  order  which  should 
exist  for  the  greatest  good  of  humanity.  God  knows  it,  and  wills  it : 
man's  duty  it  is  to  discover  and  establish  it."— Emile  de  Laveleye. 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YOEK: 
BELFORD,    CLARKE    &    CO. 

1883. 


TJien  shall  they  also  answer  him^  saying^  ''^Lord^ 
ivhen  saw  tve  thee  an  hungred.,  or  athirst^  or  a 
stranger^  or  naked^  or  sick^  or  in  prison^  and  did 
not  minister  unto  theef^^ 

Then  shall  he  ansiver  them^  saying^  ' '  Verily  I 
say  unto  you^  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of 
the  least  of  these ^  ye  did  it  not  to  me^ 

11 /r  .  ^^„„,„ 


! 


Then  shall  they  also  answer  him^  saying^  ^^Lord^ 
\fjhen  saio  toe  thee  an  hungred^  or  athirst^  or  a 
stranger^  or  nahed^  or  sick,  or  in  prison^  and  did 
not  minister  unto  theef^ 

Then  shall  he  ansioer  them^  saying^  '''Verily  I 
say  unto  you^  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of 
the  least  of  these^  ye  did  it  not  to  me^ 


Inst.  Indus. 
Rel. 

ni 


TO  THE  MEMORY 


FKANOIS  GEORGE  SHAW. 


"Yen,"  saiih  the  Spirit,  "that  they  may  rest  Jrora  their  labors,  and  their 
wo.ks  do  follow  them.'' 


1086381 


PREFACE. 


have  more  iUHy  d'eloped  tLT'""''  "'^*  '°"°^'  ' 

i  tous  social  problems  of  our  time   nn  ,  "'^"'"■ 

|"iealities,  and  without  It 7w  ""''"' '^ '^*- 
Isomeof  theprinoilrlp  ,.  fr  "^""'"^  ^^'* 
-her,  false   teaehS     Tn  'tr?  toT""^  '"'  '-'^^^ 

^^^^^^         Who  may  be   .nterested  by  this  book  to  read  ''' 

316 
HENRY  GEOKGE.        ^25 
Brooklyn,  December  7,  1883. 


coisrTEJsrTs. 


CHAPTER 

I.    The  increasing  importance  of  social  questions  9 

II.    Political  dangers 22 

III.  Coming  increase  of  social  pressure       ...  36 

IV.  Two  opposing  tendencies 49 

V.    The  march  of  concentration 62 

VI.    The  wrong  in  existing  social  conditions  .     .  74 

VII.    Is  it  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds     ...  86 

VIII.    That  we  all  might  be  rich 101 

IX.    First  principles 116 

X.    The  rights  of  man        130 

XI.    Dumping  garbage 147 

XII.    Over-production 163 

XIII.    Unemployed  labor 179 

XIV.    The  effects  of  machinery 192 

XV.    Slavery  and  slavery 204 

XVI.    Public  debts  and  indirect  taxation       .     .     .  221 

XVII.    The  functions  of  government 234 

XVIII.    What  we  must  do        264 

XIX.    The  great  reform 275 

XX.    The  American  farmer 297 

XXI.    City  and  country 316 

XXII.    Conclusion r    ....  325 

APPENDIX 

I.    The  United  States  Census  Report  on  the  size 
of  farms.    Francis  A.  Walker,  Ph.D.,  LL.D., 

and  Henry  George 333 

II.    Condition  of  English  agricultural   laborers. 

William  Saunders 357 

III.    A  piece  of  land.    Francis  G.  Shaw  ....  361 

7 


SOCIAL   PROBLEMS, 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    INCEEASING   IMPORTANCE   OF   SOCIAL   QUESTIONS. 

.  -  There  come  moments  in  our  lives  that  summon 
all  our  powers — when  we  feel  that,  casting  away 
illusions,  we  must  decide  and  act  with  our  utniost 
intelligence  and  energy.  So  in  the  lives  of  peoples 
come  periods  specially  calling  for  earnestness  and 
intelligence. 

We  seem  to  have  entered  one  of  these  periods. 
Ov^er  and  again  have  nations  and  civilizations  been 
confronted  with  problems  which,  like  the  riddle 
of  the  Sphinx,  not  to  answer  was  to  be  destroyed  ; 
but  never  before  have  problems  so  vast  and  intri- 
cate been  presented.  This  is  not  strange.  That  the 
closing  years  of  this  century  must  bring  up  momen- 
tous social  questions  follows  from  the  material  and 
intellectual  progress  that  has  marked  its  course. 

Between  the  development  of  society  and  the  de- 
velopment of  species  there  is  a  close  analogy.  In 
the  lowest  forms  of  animal  life  there  is  little  differ- 
ence of  parts  ;  both  wants  and  powers  are  few  and 


10  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

simple  ;  movement  seems  automatic  ;  and  instincts 
are  scarcely  distinguishable  from  those  of  the  veg- 
etable. So  homogeneous  are  some  of  these  living 
things,  that  if  cut  in  pieces,  each  piece  still  lives. 
But  as  life  rises  into  higher  manifestations,  simpli- 
cit)^  gives  way  to  complexity,  the  parts  develop  into 
organs  having  separate  functions  and  reciprocal 
relations,  new  wants  and  powers  arise,  and  a  greater 
and  greater  degree  of  intelligence  is  needed  to  secure 
food  and  avoid  danger.  Did  iish,  bird  or  beast  pos- 
sess no  higher  intelligence  than  the  polyp,  Nature 
could  bring  them  forth  only  to  die. 

This  law — that  the  increasing  complexity  and 
delicacy  of  organization  which  give  higher  capacity 
and  increased  power  are  accompanied  by  increased 
wants  and  dangers,  and  require,  therefore,  in- 
creased intelligence — runs  through  nature.  In  the 
ascending  scale  of  life  at  last  comes  man,  the  most 
highly  and  delicately  organized  of  animals.  Yet  not 
only  do  his  higher  powers  require  for  their  use  a 
higher  intelligence  than  exists  in  other  animals,  but 
without  higher  intelligence  he  could  not  live.  His 
skin  is  too  thin  ;  his  nails  too  brittle  ;  he  is  too 
poorly  adapted  for  running,  climbing,  swimming  or 
burrowing.  Were  he  not  gifted  with  intelligence 
greater  than  that  of  any  beast,  he  would  perish  from 
cold,  starve  from  inability  to  get  food,  or  be  exter- 
minated by  animals  better  equipped  for  the  struggle 
in  which  brute  instinct  suffices. 


IMPORTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS.  ll 

111  man,  however,  the  intelligence  which  increases 
all  through  nature's  rising  scale  passes  at  one  bound 
into  an  intelligence  so  superior,  that  the  difference 
seems  of  kind  rather  than  degree.  In  him,  that 
narrow  and  seemingly  unconscious  intelligence  that 
we  call  instinct  becomes  conscious  reason,  and  the 
godlike  power  of  adaptation  and  invention  makes 
feeble  man  nature's  king. 

But  with  man.  the  ascending  line  stops.  Animal 
life  assumes  no  higher  form ;  nor  can  we  affirm  that, 
in  all  his  generations,  man,  as  an  animal,  has  a  whit 
improved.  But  progression  in  another  line  begins. 
Where  the  development  of  species  ends,  social  de- 
velopment commences,  and  that  advance  of  society 
that  we  call  civilization  so  increases  human  powers, 
that  between  savage  and  civilized  man  there  is  a 
gulf  so  vast  as  to  suggest  the  gulf  between  the  highly 
organized  animal  and  the  oyster  glued  to  the  rocks. 
And  with  every  advance  upon  this  line  new  vistas 
open.  When  we  try  to  think  what  knowledge  and 
power  progressive  civilization  may  give  to  the  men 
of  the  future,  imagination  fails. 

In  this  progression  which  begins  with  man,  as  in 
that  which  leads  up  to  him,  the  same  law  holds. 
Each  advance  makes  a  demand  for  higher  and 
higher  intelligence.  With  the  beginnings  of  society 
arises  the  need  for  social  intelligence — for  that  con- 
sensus of  individual  intelligence  which  forms  a  pub- 
lic opinion,  a  public  conscience,  a  public  wil],  and 


12  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

is  manifested  in  law,  institutions  and  administra- 
tion. As  society  develops,  a  liiglier  and  higher 
degree  of  this  social  intelligence  is  required,  for  the 
relation  of  individuals  to  each  other  becomes  more 
intimate  and  important,  and  the  increasing  com- 
plexity of  the  social  organization  brings  liability  to 
new  dangers. 

In  the  rude  beginning,  each  family  produces  its 
own  food,  makes  its  own  clothes,  builds  its  own 
house,  and,  when  it  moves,  furnishes  its  own  trans- 
portation. Compare  with  this  independence  the 
intricate  interdependence  of  the  denizens  of  a  mod- 
ern city.  They  may  supply  themselves  with  greater 
certainty,  and  in  much  greater  variety  and  abund- 
ance, than  the  savage  ;  but  it  is  by  the  co-operation 
of  thousands.  Even  the  water  they  drink,  and  the 
artificial  light  they  use,  are  brought  to  them  by 
elaborate  machinery,  requiring  the  constant  labor 
and  watchfulness  of  many  men.  They  may  travel 
at  a  speed  incredible  to  the  savage  ;  but  in  doing  so 
resign  life  and  limb  to  the  care  of  others.  A  broken 
rail,  a  drunken  engineer,  a  careless  switchman,  may 
hurl  them  to  eternity.  And  the  power  of  applying 
labor  to  the  satisfaction  of  desire  passes,  in  the  same 
way,  beyond  the  direct  control  of  the  individual. 
The  laborer  becomes  but  part  of  a  great  machine, 
which  may  at  any  time  be  paralyzed  by  causes 
beyond  his  power,  or  even  his  foresight.  Thus  does 
the  well-being  of  each  become  more  and  more  de- 


IMPOKTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS.  13 

pendent  upon  the  well-being  of  all — the  individual 
more  and  more  subordinate  to  society. 
.  And  so  come  new  dangers.  The  rude  society 
resembles  the  creatures  that  though  cut  into  pieces 
will  live  ;  the  highly  civilized  society  is  like  a  highly 
organized  animal :  a  stab  in  a  vital  part,  the  sup- 
pression of  a  single  function,  is  death.  A  savage 
village  may  be  burned  and  its  people  driven  off — 
but,  used  to  direct  recourse  to  nature,  they  can 
maintain  themselves.  Highly  civilized  man,  how- 
ever, accustomed  to  capital,  to  machinery,  to  the 
minute  division  of  labor,  becomes  helpless  when 
suddenly  deprived  of  these  and  thrown  upon  nature. 
Under  the  factory  system,  some  sixty  persons,  with 
the  aid  of  much  costly  machinery,  co-operate  to  the 
making  of  a  pair  of  shoes.  But,  of  the  sixty,  not 
one  could  make  a  whole  shoe.  This  is  the  tendency 
in  all  branches  of  production,  even  in  agriculture. 
How  many  farmers  of  the  new  generation  can  use 
the  flail  ?  How  many  farmers'  wives  can  now  make 
a  coat  from  the  wool  ?  Many  of  our  farmers  do  not 
even  make  their  own  butter  or  raise  their  own  veg- 
etables !  There  is  an  enormous  gain  in  productive 
power  from  this  division  of  labor,  which  assigns  to 
the  individual  the  production  of  but  a  few  of  the 
things,  or  even  but  a  small  part  of  one  of  the  things, 
he  needs,  and  makes  each  dependent  upon  others 
with  whom  he  never  comes  in  contact ;  but  the 
social  organization   becomes  more   sensitive.      A 


l-i  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

primitive  village  communitj  may  pursue  the  even 
tenor  of  its  life  v^ithout  feeling  disasters  which  over- 
take other  villages  but  a  few  miles  off;  but  in  the 
closely  knit  civilization  to  which  we  have  attained,  a 
war,  a  scarcity,  a  commercial  crisis,  in  one  hemis- 
phere produces  powerful  effects  in  the  other,  while 
shocks  and  jars  from  which  a  primitive  community 
easily  recovers  would  to  a  highly  civilized  community 
mean  wreck. 

It  is  startling  to  think  how  destructive  in  a  civili- 
zation like  ours  would  be  such  fierce  conflicts  as  fill 
the  history  of  the  past.  The  wars  of  highly  civi- 
lized countries,  since  the  opening  of  the  era  of  steam 
and  machinery,  have  been  duels  of  armies  rather 
than  conflicts  of  peoples  or  classes.  Our  only 
glimpse  of  what  might  happen,  were  passion  fully 
aroused,  was  in  the  struggle  of  the  Paris  Commune. 
And,  since  1870,  to  the  knowledge  of  petroleum  has 
been  added  that  of  even  more  destructive  agents. 
The  explosion  of  a  little  nitro-glycerine  under  a  few 
water-mains  would  make  a  great  city  uninhabitable ; 
the  blowing  up  of  a  few  railroad  bridges  and  tun- 
nels would  bring  famine  quicker  than  the  wall  of 
circumvallation  that  Titus  drew  around  Jerusalem  ; 
the  pumping  of  atmospheric  air  into  the  gas-mains, 
and  the  application  of  a  match,  would  tear  up  every 
street  and  level  every  house.  The  Thirty  Years' 
War  set  back  civilization  in  Germany  ;  so  fierce  a 
war  now  would  all  but  destroy  it.     ]^ot  merely  have 


IMPORTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS.  15 

destructive  powers  vastly  increased,  but  the  whole 
social  organization  has  become  vastly  more  delicate. 
In  a  simpler  state  master  and  man,  neighbor  and 
neighbor,  know  each  other,  and  there  is  that  touch 
of  the  elbow  which,  in  times  of  danger,  enables 
society  to  rally.  But  present  tendencies  are  to  the 
loss  of  this.  In  London,  dwellers  in  one  house  do 
not  know  those  in  the  next ;  the  tenants  of  adjoining 
rooms  are  utter  strangers  to  each  other.  Let  civil 
conflict  break  or  paralyze  the  authority  that  pre- 
serves order  and  the  vast  population  would  become 
a  terror-stricken  mob,  without  point  of  rally  or  prin- 
ciple of  cohesion,  and  your  London  would  be  sacked 
and  burned  by  an  army  of  thieves.  London  is  only 
the  greatest  of  great  cities.  What  is  true  of  London 
is  true  of  New  York,  and  in  the  same  measure  true 
of  the  many  cities  whose  hundreds  of  thousands  are 
steadily  growing  toward  millions.  These  vast  ag- 
gregations of  humanity,  where  he  who  seeks  isola- 
tion may  find  it  more  truly  than  in  the  desert ; 
where  wealth  and  poverty  touch  and  jostle  ;  where 
one  revels  and  another  starves  v/ithin  a  few  feet  of 
each  other,  yet  separated  by  as  great  a  gulf  as  that 
fixed  between  Dives  in  Hell  and  Lazarus  in  Abra- 
ham's bosom — they  are  centers  and  types  of  our  civ- 
ilization. Let  jar  or  shock  dislocate  the  complex 
and  delicate  organization,  let  the  policeman's  club 
be  thrown  down  or  wrested  from  him,  and  tlie  foun- 
tains of  the  great  deep  are  opened,  and  quicker  than 


16  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 


ever  before  chaos  comes  again.  Strong  as  it  may, 
seem,  our  civilization  is  evolving  destructive  forces. 
Not  desert  and  forest,  but  city  slums  and  country 
roadsides  are  nursing  the  barbarians  who  may  be  to 
the  new  what  Ilun  and  Vandal  were  to  the  old. 

Nor  should  we  forget  that  in  civilized  man  still  | 
lurks  the  savage.  The  men  who,  in  past  times, 
oppressed  or  revolted,  who  fought  to  the  death  in 
petty  quarrels  and  drunk  fury  with  blood,  who  burnt 
cities  and  rent  empires,  were  men  essentially  such 
as  those  we  daily  meet.  Social  progress  has  ac- 
cumulated knowledge,  softened  manners,  refined 
tastes  and  extended  sympathies,  but  man  is  yet 
capable  of  as  blind  a  rage  as,  when  clothed  in  skins, 
he  fought  wild  beasts  with  a  flint.  And  present 
tendencies,  in  some  respects  at  least,  threaten  to 
kindle  passions  that  have  so  often  before  flamed  in 
destructive  fury. 

There  is  in  all  the  past  nothing  to  compare  with 
the  rapid  changes  now  going  on  in  the  civilized 
world.  It  seems  as  though  in  the  European  race, 
and  in  the  nineteenth  century,  man  was  just  begin- 
ning to  live — just  grasping  his  tools  and  becoming 
conscious  of  his  powers.  The  snail's  pace  of  crawl- 
ing ages  has  suddenly  become  the  headlong  rush  of 
the  locomotive,  speeding  faster  and  faster.  This  rapid 
progress  is  primarily  in  industrial  methods  and  ma- 
terial powers.  But  industrial  changes  imply  social 
changes  and  necessitate  political  changes.    Progress- 


IMPORTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS.  IT 

ive  societies  outgrow  institutions  as  children  outgrow 
clothes.  Social  progress  always  requires  greater  in- 
telligence in  the  management  of  public  affairs  ;  but 
this  the  more  as  progress  is  rapid  and  change 
quicker. 

And  that  the  rapid  changes  now  going  on  are 
bringing  up  problems  that  demand  most  earnest 
attention  may  be  seen  on  every  hand.  Symptoms 
of  danger,  premonitions  of  violence,  are  appearing 
all  over  the  civilized  world.  Creeds  are  dying,  be- 
liefs are  changing ;  the  old  forces  of  conservatism 
are  melting  away.  Political  institutions  are  failing, 
as  clearly  in  democratic  America  as  in  monarchical 
Europe.  There  is  growing  unrest  and  bitterness 
among  the  masses,  whatever  be  the  form  of  govern- 
ment, a  blind  groping  for  escape  from  conditions 
becoming  intolerable.  To  attribute  all  this  to  the 
teachings  of  demagogues  is  like  attributing  the 
fever  to  the  quickened  pulse.  It  is  the  new  wine 
beginning  to  ferment  in  old  bottles.  To  put  into  a 
sailing-ship  the  powerful  engines  of  a  first-class 
ocean  steamer  would  be  to  tear  her  to  pieces  with 
thdr  play.  So  the  new  powers  rapidly  changing 
all  the  relations  of  society  must  shatter  social  and 
political  organizations  not  adapted  to  meet  their 
strain. 

To  adjust  our  institutions  to  growing  needs  and 
changing  conditions  is  the  task  which  devolves  upon 
us.  Prudence,  patriotism,  human  sympathy,  and 
2 


18  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

religious  sentiment,  alike  call  upon  us  to  undertake 
it.  There  is  danger  in  reckless  change  ;  but  greater 
danger  in  blind  conservatism.  The  problems  begin- 
ning to  confront  us  are  grave  —  so  grave  that  there 
is  fear  they  may  not  be  solved  in  time  to  prevent 
great  catastrophes.  But  their  gravity  comes  from 
indisposition  to  frankly  recognize  and  boldly  grap- 
ple with  them. 

These  dangers,  v^hich  menace  not  one  country 
alone,  but  modern  civilization  itself,  do  but  show 
that  a  higher  civilization  is  struggling  to  be  born  — 
that  the  needs  and  the  aspirations  of  men  have 
outgrown  conditions  and  institutions  that  before 
sufficed. 

A  civilization  which  tends  to  concentrate  wealth 
and  power  in  the  hands  of  a  fortunate  few,  and  to  | 
make  of  others  mere  human  machines,  must  in- 
evitably evolve  anarchy  and  bring  destruction.  But 
a  civilization  is  possible  in  which  the  poorest  could 
have  all  the  comforts  and  conveniences  now  en- 
joyed by  the  rich  ;  in  which  prisons  and  almshouses 
would  be  needless,  and  charitable  societies  un- 
thought  of.  Such  a  civilization  only  waits  for  the 
social  intelligence  that  will  adapt  means  to  ends. 
Powers  that  might  give  plenty  to  all  are  already  in 
our  hands.  Though  there  is  poverty  and  want, 
there  is,  yet,  seeming  embarrassment  from  the  very 
excess  of  wealth-producing  forces.  "  Give  us  but  a; 
market,"  say  manufacturers,   ''and  we  will  supply 


IMPORTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS,  19 


goods  to  no  end  !  "     "Give  ns  but  work  ! "  cry  idle 


men 


The  evils  that  begin  to  appear  spring  from  the 
fact  that  the  application  of  intelligence  to  social 
aifairs  has  not  kept  pace  with  the  application  of  in- 
telligence to  individual  needs  and  material  ends. 
Natural  science  strides  forward,  but  political  science 
lags.  With  all  our  progress  in  the  arts  which 
produce  wealth,  we  have  made  no  progress  in 
securing  its  equitable  distribution.  Knowledge  has 
vastly  increased  ;  industry  and  commerce  have  been 
revolutionized  ;  but  whether  free  trade  or  protection 
is  best  for  a  nation  we  are  not  yet  agreed.  We  have 
brought  machinery  to  a  pitch  of  perfection  that,  fifty 
years  ago,  could  not  have  been  imagined  ;  but,  in 
the  presence  of  political  corruption,  we  seem  as 
helpless  as  idiots.  The  East  Kiver  bridge  is  a 
crowning  triumph  of  mechanical  skill ;  but  to  get  it 
built  a  leading  citizen  of  Brooklyn  had  to  carry  to 
New  York  sixty  thousand  dollars  in  a  carpet-bag  to 
bribe  New  York  aldermen.  The  human  soul  that 
thought  out  the  great  bridge  is  prisoned  in  a  crazed 
and  broken  body  that  lies  bed-fast,  and  could  only 
watch  it  grow  by  peering  through  a  telescope. 
Nevertheless,  the  weight  of  the  immense  mass  is 
estimated  and  adjusted  for  every  inch.  But  the 
skill  of  the  engineer  could  not  prevent  condemned 
wire  being  smuggled  into  the  cable. 


20  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

The  jjrogress  of  civilization  requires  that  more 
and  more  intelligence  be  devoted  to  social  affairs, 
and  this  not  the  intelligence  of  the  few,  but  that  of 
the  many.  We  cannot  safely  leave  politics  to  poli- 
ticians, or  political  economy  to  college  professors. 
The  people  themselves  must  think,  because  the 
people  alone  can  act. 

In  a  ''journal  of  civilization"  a  professed  teacher 
declares  the  saving  word  for  society  to  be  that  each 
shall  mind  his  own  business.  This  is  the  gospel  of 
selfishness,  soothing  as  soft  flutes  to  those  who, 
having  fared  well  themselves,  think  everybody 
should  be  satisfied.  But  the  salvation  of  society, 
the  hope  for  the  free,  full  development  of  humanity, 
is  in  the  gospel  of  brotherhood — the  gospel  of  Christ. 
Social  progress  makes  the  well-being  of  all  more 
and  more  the  business  of  each  ;  it  binds  all  closer 
and  closer  together  in  bonds  from  which  none 
can  escape.  He  who  observes  the  law  and  the  pro- 
prieties, and  cares  for  his  family,  yet  takes  no  in- 
terest in  the  general  weal,  and  gives  no  thought  to 
those  who  are  trodden  under  foot,  save  now  and 
then  to  bestow  alms,  is  not  a  true  Christian.  Nor 
is  he  a  good  citizen.  The  duty  of  the  citizen  is 
more  and  harder  than  this. 

The  intelligence  required  for  the  solving  of  social 
problems  is  not  a  mere  thing  of  the  intellect.  It 
must  be  animated  with  the  religious  sentiment  and 


IMPORTANCE    OF    SOCIAL    QUESTIONS.  21 

warm  with  sympathy  for  human  suffering.  It  must 
stretch  out  beyond  self-interest,  whether  it  be  the 
self-interest  of  the  few  or  the  many.  It  must  seek 
justice.  For  at  the  bottom  of  every  social  problem 
we  will  find  a  social  wrong. 


CHAPTER  II. 

POLITICAL   DANGERS. 

The  American  Republic  is  to-day  unquestionably 
foremost  of  the  nations — the  van-leader  of  modern 
civilization.  Of  all  the  great  peoples  of  the  Euro- 
pean family,  her  people  are  the  most  homogeneous, 
the  most  active  and  most  assimilative.  Their  aver- 
age standard  of  intelligence  and  comfort  is  higher  ; 
they  have  most  fully  adopted  modern  industrial  im- 
provements, and  are  the  quickest  to  utilize  discovery 
and  invention  ;  their  political  institutions  are  most 
in  accordance  with  modern  ideas,  their  position  ex- 1 
empts  them  from  dangers  and  difficulties  besetting  | 
the  European  nations,  and  a  vast  area  of  unoccupied 
land  gives  them  room  to  grow. 

At  the  rate  of  increase  so  far  maintained,  the 
English-speaking  people  of  America  will,  by  the 
close  of  the  century,  number  nearly  one  hundred 
million — a  population  as  large  as  owned  the  sway 
of  Rome  in  her  palmiest  days.  By  the  middle  of 
the  next  century — a  time  which  children  now  born 
will  live  to  see — they  will,  at  the  same  rate,  number! 
more  than  the  present  population  of  Europe  ;  and ' 
by  its  close  nearly  equal  the  population  which,  at 

22 


POLITICAL    DANGERS.  23 

the  beginning  of  this  century,  the  whole  earth  was 
believed  to  contain. 

But  the  increase  of  power  is  more  rapid  than  the 
increase  of  population,  and  goes  on  in  accelerating 
progression.  Discovery  and  invention  stimulate 
discovery  and  invention  ;  and  it  is  only  when  we 
consider  that  the  industrial  progress  of  the  last  fifty 
years  bids  fair  to  pale  before  the  achievements  of 
the  next  that  we  can  vaguely  imagine  the  future 
that  seems  opening  before  the  American  people. 
The  center  of  wealth,  of  art,  of  luxury  and  learning, 
must  pass  to  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  even  before 
the  center  of  population.  It  seems  as  if  this  conti- 
nent had  been  reserved — shrouded  for  ages  from  the 
rest  of  the  world — as  the  field  upon  which  European 
civilization  might  freely  bloom.  And  for  the  very 
reason  that  our  growth  is  so  rapid  and  our  progress 
so  swift ;  for  the  very  reason  that  all  the  tendencies 
of  modern  civilization  assert  themselves  here  more 
quickly  and  strongly  than  anywhere  else,  the  prob- 
lems which  modern  civilization  must  meet,  will  here 
first  fully  present  themselves,  and  will  most  imperi- 
ously demand  to  be  thought  out  or  fought  out. 

It  is  difficult  for  any  one  to  turn  from  the  history 
of  the  past  to  think  of  the  incomparable  greatness 
promised  by  the  rapid  growth  of  the  United  States 
without  something  of  awe — something  of  that  feel- 
ing which  induced  Amasis  of  Egypt  to  dissolve  his 
alliance  with    the   successful    Poly  crates,    because 


24  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

''the  gods  do  not  permit  to  mortals  such  pros- 
perity." Of  this,  at  least,  we  may  be  certain  :  the 
rapidity  of  our  development  brings  dangers  that  can 
only  be  guarded  against  by  alert  intelligence  and 
earnest  patriotism. 

There  is  a  suggestive  fact  that  must  impress  any 
one  who  thinks  over  the  history  of  past  eras  and 
preceding  civilizations.  The  great,  wealthy  and 
powerful  nations  have  always  lost  their  freedom  ;  it 
is  only  in  small,  poor  and  isolated  communities  that 
Liberty  has  been  maintained.  So  true  is  this  tliat 
the  poets  have  always  sung  that  Liberty  loves  the 
rocks  and  the  mountains  ;  that  she  shrinks  from 
wealth  and  power  and  splendor,  from  the  crowded 
city  and  the  busy  mart.  So  true  is  this  that  philo- 
sophical historians  have  sought  in  the  richness  ot 
material  resources  the  causes  of  the  corruption  and 
enslavement  of  peoples. 

Liberty  is  natural.  Primitive  perceptions  are  of 
the  equal  rights  of  the  citizen,  and  political  organi- 
zation always  starts  from  this  base.  It  is  as  social 
development  goes  on  that  we  find  power  concen- 
trating, and  institutions  based  upon  the  equality  of 
rights  passing  into  institutions  which  make  the  many 
the  slaves  of  the  few.  How  this  is  w^e  may  see.  In 
all  institutions  which  involve  the  lodgment  of  gov- 
erning power  there  is,  with  social  grow^th,  a  tendency 
to  the  exaltation  of  their  function  and  the  centraliza- 
tion of  their  power,  and  in  the  stronger  of  these  insti- 


POLITICAL    DANGERS.  25 

tutions  a  tendency  to  the  absorption  of  the  powers 
of  the  rest,  Tlius  tlie  tendency  of  social  growth  is  to 
make  government  the  business  of  a  special  class. 
And  as  numbers  increase  and  the  power  and  im- 
portance of  each  become  less  and  less  as  compared 
with  that  of  all,  so,  for  this  reason,  does  govern- 
ment tend  to  pass  beyond  the  scrutiny  and  control 
of  the  masses.  The  leader  of  a  handful  of  warriors, 
or  head  man  of  a  little  village,  can  only  command 
or  govern  by  common  consent,  and  any  one  ag- 
grieved can  readily  appeal  to  his  fellows.  But  when 
the  tribe  becomes  a  nation  and  the  village  expands 
to  a  populous  country,  the  powers  of  the  chieftain, 
without  formal  addition,  become  practically  much 
greater.  For  with  increase  of  numbers  scrutiny  of 
his  acts  becomes  more  difficult,  it  is  harder  and 
harder  to  successfully  appeal  from  them,  and  the 
aggregate  power  which  he  directs  becomes  irresisti- 
ble as  against  individuals.  And  gradually,  as 
power  thus  concentrates,  primitive  ideas  are  lost, 
and  the  habit  of  thought  grows  up  which  regards 
the  masses  as  born  but  for  the  serviee  of  their  rulers. 
Thus  the  mere  growth  of  society  involves  danger 
of  the  gradual  conversion  of  government  into  some- 
thing independent  of  and  beyond  the  people,  and 
the  gradual  seizure  of  its  powers  by  a  ruling  class — 
though  not  necessarily  a  class  marked  off  b}^  per- 
sonal titles  and  a  hereditary  status,  for,  as  history 
shows,  personal  titles  and  hereditary  status  do  not 


26  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

accompany  the  concentration  of  power,  but  follow 
it.  The  same  methods  which,  in  a  little  town  where  ^ 
each  knows  his  neighbor  and  matters  of  common 
interest  are  under  the  common  eye,  enable  the  citi- 
zens to  freely  govern  themselves,  may,  in  a  great 
city,  as  we  have  in  many  cases  seen,  enable  an  or- 
ganized ring  of  plunderers  to  gain  and  hold  the 
government.  So,  too,  as  we  see  in  Congress,  and 
even  in  our  State  Legislatures,  the  growth  of  the 
country  and  the  greater  number  of  interests  make 
the  proportion  of  the  votes  of  a  representative,  of 
which  his  constituents  know  or  care  to  know,  less 
and  less.  And  so,  too,  the  executive  and  judicial 
departments  tend  constantly  to  pass  beyond  the  , 
scrutiny  of  the  people. 

But  to  the  changes  proaucea  by  growth  are,  with 
us,  added  the  changes  brought  about  by  improved 
industrial  methods.  The  tendency  of  steam  and 
of  machinery  is  to  the  division  of  labor,  to  the  con 
centration  of  wealth  and  power.  Workmen  are 
becoming  massed  by  hundreds  and  thousands  in  the 
employ  of  single  individuals  and  firms  ;  small  store 
keepers  and  merchants  are  becoming  the  clerks  and 
salesmen  of  great  business  houses  ;  we  have  already 
corporations  whose  revenues  and  pay-rolls  belittle 
those  of  the  greatest  States.  And  with  this  con 
centration  grows  the  facility  of  combination  among 
these  great  business  interests.  How  readily  the 
railroad   companies,   the  coal  operators,   the  steel 


t'OLlTICAL    DANGERS  27 

producers,  even  the  match  manufacturers,  combine, 
either  to  regulate  prices  or  to  use  the  powers  of  gov- 
ernment !  The  tendency  in  all  branches  of  industry 
is  to  the  formation  of  rings  against  which  the  indi- 
vidual is  helpless,  and  which  exert  their  power  upon 
government  whenever  their  interests  may  thus  be 
served. 

It  is  not  merely  positively,  but  negatively,  that 
great  aggregations  of  wealth,  whether  individual  or 
corporate,  tend  to  corrupt  government  and  take  it 
out  of  the  control  of  the  masses  of  the  people. 
"IN'othing  is  more  timorous  than  a  million  dol- 
lars—  except  two  million  dollars."  Great  wealth 
always  supports  the  party  in  power,  no  matter  how 
corrupt  it  may  be.  It  never  exerts  itself  for  reform, 
for  it  instinctively  fears  change.  It  never  struggles 
against  misgovernment.  When  threatened  by  the 
holders  of  political  power  it  does  not  agitate,  nor 
appeal  to  the  people ;  it  buys  them  off.  It  is  in 
this  way,  no  less  than  by  its  direct  interference,  that 
aggregated  wealth  corrupts  government,  and  helps 
to  make  politics  a  trade.  Our  organized  lobbies, 
both  Legislative  and  Congressional,  rely  as  much 
upon  the  fears  as  upon  the  hopes  of  moneyed  inter- 
ests. When  "business "  is  dull,  their  resource  is  to 
get  up  a  bill  which  some  moneyed  interest  will  pay 
them  to  beat.  So,  too,  these  large  moneyed  inter- 
ests will  subscribe  to  political  funds,  on  the  princi- 
ple of  keeping  on  the  right  side  of  those  in  power, 


28  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

just  as  the  railroad  companies  deadhead  President 
Arthur  when  he  goes  to  Florida  to  iish. 

The  more  corrupt  a  government  the  easier  wealth 
can  use  it.  Where  legislation  is  to  be  bought,  the 
rich  make  the  laws  ;  where  justice  is  to  be  purchased, 
the  rich  have  the  ear  of  the  courts.  And  if,  for 
this  reason,  great  wealth  does  not  absolutely  prefer 
corrupt  government  to  pure  government,  it  becomes 
none  the  less  a  corrupting  influence.  A  community 
composed  of  very  rich  and  very  poor  falls  an  easy 
prey  to  whoever  can  seize  power.  The  very  poor 
have  not  spirit  and  intelligence  enough  to  resist ; 
the  very  rich  have  too  much  at  stake. 

The  rise  in  the  United  States  of  monstrous  for- 
tunes, the  aggregation  of  enormous  wealth  in  the 
hands  of  corporations,  necessarily  implies  the  loss 
by  the  people  of  governmental  control.  Democratic 
forms  may  be  maintained,  but  there  can  be  as  much 
tyranny  and  misgovernment  under  democratic 
forms  as  any  other — in  fact,  they  lend  themselves 
most  readily  to  tyranny  and  misgovernment.  Forms 
count  for  little.  The  Romans  expelled  their  kings, 
and  continued  tx3  abhor  the  very  name  of  king. 
But  under  the  name  of  Cfesars  and  Imperators,  that 
at  first  meant  no  more  than  our  "Boss,"  they 
crouched  before  tyrants  more  absolute  than  kings. 
We  have  already,  under  the  popular  name  of 
"bosses,"  developed  political  Ciesars  in  munici- 
palities and  states.     If  this  development  continues. 


POLITICAL    DANGERS.  29 

in  time  there  will  come  a  national  boss.  We  are 
young ;  but  we  are  growing.  The  day  may  arrive 
when  the  "Boss  of  America "  will  be  to  the  modern 
world  what  Csesar  was  to  the  Roman  world.  This, 
at  least,  is  certain  :  Democratic  government  in  more 
than  name  can  only  exist  where  wealth  is  distrib- 
uted with  something  like  equality — where  the  great 
mass  of  citizens  are  personally  free  and  independ- 
ent, neither  fettered  by  their  poverty  nor  made  sub- 
ject by  their  wealth.  There  is,  after  all,  some  sense 
in  a  property  qualification.  The  man  who  is  de- 
pendent on  a  master  for  his  living  is  not  a  free  man. 
To  give  the  suffrage  to  slaves  is  only  to  give  votes 
to  their  owners.  That  universal  suffrage  may  add 
to,  instead  of  decreasing,  the  political  power  of 
wealth  we  see  when  mill-owners  and  mine-operators 
vote  their  hands.  The  freedom  to  earn,  without 
fear  or  favor,  a  comfortable  living,  ought  to  go  with 
the  freedom  to  vote.  Thus  alone  can  a  sound  basis 
for  republican  institutions  be  secured.  How  can  a 
man  be  said  to  have  a  country  where  he  has  no 
right  to  a  square  inch  of  soil ;  where  he  has  noth- 
ing but  his  hands,  and,  urged  by  starvation,  must 
bid  against  his  fellows  for  the  privilege  of  using 
them?  When  it  comes  to  voting  tramps,  some 
principle  has  been  carried  to  a  ridiculous  and  dan- 
gerous extreme.  I  have  known  elections  to  be  de- 
cided by  the  carting  of  paupers  from  the  almshouse 


30  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

to  the  i^olls.     But  such  decisions  can  scarcely  be  in 
the  interest  of  good  government. 

Beneath  all  political  problems  lies  the  social  prob- 
lem of  the  distribution  of  wealth.  This  our  people 
do  not  generally  recognize,  and  they  listen  to  quacks 
who  propose  to  cure  the  symptoms  without  touch- 
ing the  disease.  "Let  us  elect  good  men  to  office," 
say  the  quacks.  Yes  ;  let  us  catch  little  birds  by 
sprinkling  salt  on  their  tails  ! 

It  behooves  us  to  look  facts  in  the  face.  The 
experiment  of  popular  government  in  the  United 
States  is  clearly  a  failure.  Not  that  it  is  a  failure 
everywhere  and  in  everything.  An  experiment  of 
this  kind  does  not  have  to  be  fully  w^orked  out  to  be 
proved  a  failure.  But  speaking  generally  of  the 
whole  country,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and 
from  the  Lakes  to  the  Gulf,  our  government  by  the 
people  has  in  large  degree  become,  is  in  larger 
degree  becoming,  government  by  the  strong  and 
unscrupulous. 

The  people,  of  course,  continue  to  vote  ;  but  the 
people  are  losing  their  power.  Money  and  organi- 
zation tell  more  and  more  in  elections.  In  some 
sections  bribery  has  become  chronic,  and  numbers 
of  voters  expect  regularly  to  sell  their  votes.  In 
some  sections  large  employers  regularly  bulldoze 
their  hands  into  voting  as  they  wish.  In  municipal, 
State  and  Federal  politics  the  power  of  the  "ma- 
chine "  is  increasing.     It  many  places  it  has  become 


POLITICAL    DANGERS.  31 

SO  strong  that  the  ordinary  citizen  has  no  more  in- 
fluence in  the  government  under  which  he  lives 
than  he  would  have  in  China.  He  is,  in  reality, 
not  one  of  the  governing  classes,  but  one  of  the 
governed.  He  occasionally,  in  disgust,  votes  for 
"the  other  man,"  or  "the  other  party"  ;  but,  gen- 
erally, to  find  that  he  has  only  effected  a  change  of 
masters,  or  secured  the  same  masters  under  differ- 
ent names.  And  he  is  beginning  to  accept  the  situa- 
tion, and  to  leave  politics  to  politicians,  as  some- 
thing with  which  an  honest,  self-respecting  man 
cannot  afford  to  meddle. 

We  are  steadily  differentiating  a  governing  class, 
or  rather  a  class  of  Praetorians,  who  make  a  busi- 
ness of  gaining  political  power  and  then  selling 
it.  The  type  of  the  rising  party  leader  is  not  the 
orator  or  statesman  of  an  earlier  day,  but  the  shrewd 
manager,  who  knows  how  to  handle  the  workers, 
how  to  combine  pecuniary  interests,  how  to  obtain 
money  and  to  spend  it,  how  to  gather  to  himself 
followers  and  to  secure  their  allegiance.  One  party 
machine  is  becoming  complementary  to  the  other 
party  machine,  the  politicians,  like  the  railroad 
managers,  having  discovered  that  combination  pays 
better  than  competition.  So  rings  are  made  im- 
pregnable and  great  pecuniary  interests  secure  their 
ends  no  matter  how  elections  go.  There  are  sove- 
reign States  so  completely  in  the  hands  of  rings  and 
corporations  that  it  seems  as  if  nothing  short  of  a 


32  SOCIAL   PEOBLEMS. 

revolutionary  uprising  of  the  people  could  dispossess 
them.  Indeed,  whether  the  General  Government 
has  not  already  passed  beyond  popular  control  may 
be  doubted.  Certain  it  is  that  possession  of  the 
General  Government  has  for  some  time  past  secured 
possession.  And  for  one  term,  at  least,  the  Presi- 
dential chair  has  been  occupied  by  a  man  not  elected 
to  it.  This,  of  com^se,  was  largely  due  to  the  crook- 
edness of  the  man  who  was  elected,  and  to  the  lack 
of  principle  in  his  supporters.  Nevertheless,  it 
occurred. 

As  for  the  great  railroad  managers,  they  may 
well  say  "  The  people  be  d — d  !  "  When  they  want 
the  power  of  the  people  they  buy  the  people's  mas- 
ters. The  map  of  the  United  States  is  colored  to 
show  States  and  Territories.  A  map  of  real  politi- 
cal powers  would  ignore  State  lines.  Here  would 
be  a  big  patch  representing  the  domains  of  Yander- 
bilt ;  there  Jay  Gould's  dominions  would  be  bright- 
ly marked.  In  another  place  would  be  set  off  the 
empire  of  Stanford  and  Huntington ;  in  another  the 
newer  empire  of  Henry  Yillard  ;  the  States  and 
parts  of  States  that  own  the  sway  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Central  would  be  distinguished  from  those 
ruled  by  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  ;  and  so  on.  In 
our  National  Senate,  sovereign  members  of  the 
Union  are  supposed  to  be  represented  ;  but  what 
are  more  truly  represented  are  railroad  kings  and 
great  moneyed  interests,  though  occasionally  a  mine 


POLITICAL    DANGERS.  33 

jobber  from  Nevada  or  Colorado,  not  mimical  to  the 
ruling  powers,  is  suffered  to  buy  himself  a  seat  for 
glory.  And  the  Bench  as  well  as  the  Senate  is 
being  filled  with  corporation  henchmen.  A  rail- 
road king  makes  his  attorney  a  judge  of  last  resort, 
as  the  great  lord  used  to  make  his  chaplain  a  bishop. 
We  do  not  get  even  cheap  government.  We 
might  keep  a  royal  family,  house  them  in  palaces  like 
Versailles  or  Sans  Souci,  provide  them  with  courts 
and  guards,  masters  of  robes  and  rangers  of  parks, 
let  them  give  balls  more  costly  than  Mrs.  Yander- 
bilt's,  and  build  yachts  finer  than  Jay  Gould's,  for 
much  less  than  is  wasted  and  stolen  under  our  nom- 
inal government  of  the  people.  What  a  noble  in- 
come would  be  that  of  a  Duke  of  Xew  York,  a  Mar- 
quis of  Philadelphia,  or  a  Count  of  San  Francisco, 
who  would  administer  the  government  of  these  mu- 
nicipalities for  fifty  per  cent,  of  present  waste  and 
stealage !  Unless  we  got  an  aesthetic  Chinook, 
where  could  we  get  an  absolute  ruler  who  would 
erect  such  a  monument  of  extravagant  vulgarity  as 
j  the  new  Capitol  of  the  State  of  New  York  ?  While, 
as  we  saw  in  the  Congress  just  adjourned,  the 
benevolent  gentlemen  whose  desire  it  is  to  protect 
us  against  the  pauper  labor  of  Europe  quarrel  over 
their  respective  shares  of  the  spoil  with  as  little 
regard  for  the  taxpayer  as  a  pirate  crew  would  have 
for  the  consignees  of  a  captured  vessel. 
•^  The  people  are  largely  conscious  of  all  this,  and 
3 


34  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

there  is  among  the  masses  much  dissatisfaction. 
But  there  is  a  lack  of  that  intelligent  interest  neces- 
sary to  adapt  political  organization  to  changing  con- 
ditions. The  popular  idea  of  reform  seems  to  be 
merely  a  change  of  men  or  a  change  of  parties,  not 
a  change  of  system.  Political  cliildren,  we  attribute 
to  bad  men  or  wicked  parties  what  really  springs 
from  deep  general  causes.  Our  two  great  political 
parties  have  really  nothing  more  to  propose  than 
the  keeping  or  the  taking  of  the  offices  from  the 
other  party.  On  their  outskirts  are  the  Greenback- 
ers,  who,  with  a  more  or  less  definite  idea  of  what 
they  want  to  do  with  the  currency,  represent  vague 
social  dissatisfaction  ;  civil  service  reformers,  who 
hope  to  accomplish  a  political  reform  while  keeping  it 
out  of  politics  ;  and  antimonopolists,  who  propose 
to  tie  up  locomotives  with  pack  thread.  Even  the 
labor  organizations  seem  to  fear  to  go  further  in 
their  platforms  than  some  such  propositions  as  eight- 
hour  laws,  bureaus  of  labor  statistics,  mechanics' 
liens,  and  prohibition  of  prison  contracts. 

All  this  shows  want  of  grasp  and  timidity  of 
thought.  It  is  not  by  accident  that  government 
grows  corrupt  and  passes  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
people.  If  we  would  really  make  and  continue  this 
a  government  of  the  people,  for  the  people  and  by 
the  people,  we  must  give  to  our  politics  earnest  at- 
tention ;  we  must  be  prepared  to  review  our  opin- 
ions, to  give  up  old  ideas  and  to  accept  new  ones. 


POLIIICAL    DANGERS.  35 

We  must  abandon  prejudice,  and  make  our  reckon- 
ing with  free  minds.  The  sailor,  who,  no  matter 
how  the  wind  might  change,  should  persist  in  keep- 
ing his  vessel  under  the  same  sail  and  on  the  same 
tack,  would  never  reach  his  haven. 


CHAPTEE  ni. 

COMING    INCREASE    OF     SOCIAL   PRESSURE. 

The  trees,  as  I  write,  have  not  yet  begun  to  leaf, 
nor  even  the  blossoms  to  appear  ;  yet,  passing  down 
the  lower  part  of  Broadway  these  early  days  of 
spring,  one  breasts  a  steady  current  of  uncouthly- 
dressed  men  and  women,  carrying  bundles  and 
boxes  and  all  manner  of  baggage.  As  the  season 
advances,  the  human  current  will  increase  ;  even 
in  winter  it  will  not  wholly  cease  its  flow.  It 
is  the  great  gulf-stream  of  humanity  which  sets 
from  Europe  upon  America — the  greatest  migration 
of  peoples  since  the  world  began.  Other  minor 
branches  has  the  stream.  Into  Boston  and  Phila- 
delphia, into  Portland,  Quebec  and  Montreal,  into 
New  Orleans,  Galveston,  San  Francisco  and  Vic- 
toria, come  oflshoots  of  the  same  current ;  and  as  it 
flows  it  draws  increasing  volume  from  wider  sources. 
Emigration  to  America  has,  since  1848,  reduced 
the  population  of  Ireland  by  more  than  a  third  ; 
but  as  Irish  ability  to  feed  the  stream  declines,  Eng- 
lish emigration  increases ;  the  German  outpour 
becomes  so  vast  as  to  assume  the  first  proportions, 
and  the  millions  of  Italy,  pressed  by  want  as  severe 
as  that  of  Ireland,  begin  to  turn  to  the  emigrant 

86 


COMING    INCREASE    OF    SOCIAT.    PRESSURPL  37 

ship  as  did  the  Irish.  In  Castle  Garden  one  may 
see  the  gai'b  and  hear  the  speech  of  all  European 
peoples.  From  the  fjords  of  Norway,  from  the 
plains  of  Eussia  and  Hungary,  from  the  mountains 
of  Wallachia,  and  from  Mediterranean  shores  and 
islands,  once  the  center  of  classic  civilization,  the 
great  current  is  fed.  Every  year  increases  the  fa- 
cility of  its  flow.  Year  by  year  improvements  in 
steam  navigation  are  practically  reducing  the  dis- 
tance between  the  two  continents  ;  year  by  year 
European  railroads  are  making  it  easier  for  interior 
populations  to  reach  the  seaboard,  and  the  telegraph, 
the  newspaper,  the  schoolmaster  and  the  cheap 
post,  are  lessening  those  objections  of  ignorance  and 
sentiment  to  removal  that  are  so  strong  with  people 
long  rooted  in  one  place.  Yet,  in  spite  of  this 
great  exodus,  the  population  of  Europe,  as  a  whole, 
is  steadily  increasing. 

And  across  the  continent,  from  east  to  west,  from 
the  older  to  the  newer  States,  an  even  greater  mi- 
gration is  going  on.  Our  people  emigrate  more 
readily  than  those  of  Europe,  and  increasing  as 
European  immigration  is,  it  is  yet  becoming  a  less 
and  less  important  factor  of^3ur  growth,  as  compared 
with  the  natural  increase  of  our  population.  At 
Chicago  and  St.  Paul,  Omaha  and  Kansas  City,  the 
volume  of  the  westward  moving  current  has  in- 
creased, not  diminished.  From  what,  so  short  a 
time  ago,  was  the  new  West  of  unbroken  prairie  and 


38  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

native  forest,  goes  on,  as  children  grow  up,  a  con- 
stant migration  to  a  newer  West. 

This  westward  expansion  of  population  has  gone 
on  steadily  since  the  first  settlement  of  the  Eastern 
shore.  It  has  been  the  great  distinguishing  feature 
in  the  conditions  of  our  people.  Without  its  possi- 
bility we  would  have  been  in  nothing  what  we  are. 
Our  higher  standard  of  wages  and  of  comfort  and 
of  average  intelligence,  our  superior  self-reliance, 
energy,  inv^entiveness,  adaptability  and  assimilative 
power,  spring  as  directly  from  this  possibility  of 
expansion  as  does  our  unprecedented  growth.  All 
that  we  are  proud  of  in  national  life  and  national 
character  comes  primarily  from  our  background  of 
unused  land.  We  are  but  transplanted  Europeans, 
and,  for  that  matter,  mostly  of  the  "inferior  classes." 
It  is  not  usually  those  whose  position  is  comfortable 
and  whose  prospects  are  bright  who  emigrate  ;  it  is 
those  w^ho  are  pinched  and  dissatisfied,  those  to 
whom  no  prospect  seems  open.  There  are  heralds' 
colleges  in  Europe  that  drive  a  good  business  in 
providing  a  certain  class  of  Americans  with  pedi- 
grees and  coats-of-arms  ;  but  it  is  probably  well  for 
this  sort  of  self-esteem  that  the  majority  of  us  can- 
not truly  trace  our  ancestry  very  far.  We  liad 
some  Pilgrim  Fathers,  it  is  true  ;  likewise  some 
Quaker  fathers,  and  other  sorts  of  fathers  ;  yet  the 
majority  even  of  the  early  settlers  did  not  come  to 
America  for  "freedom  to  worship  God,"  hut  be- 


COMING    INCREASE    OF    SOCIAL    PRESSURE.  39 

cause  they  were  poor,  dissatisfied,  unsuccessful,  or 
recklessly  adventurous  —  many  because  they  were 
evicted,   many  to  escape  imprisonment,  many  be- 
cause they  were  kidnapped,  many  as  self-sold  bonds- 
men, as  indentured  apprentices,  or  mercenary  sol- 
diers.    It  is  the  virtue  of  new  soil,  the  freedom  of 
opportunity  given  by  the  possibility  of  expansion, 
that  has  here  transmuted  into  wholesome  human 
growth  material  that,  had  it  remained  in  Europe,/ 
might  have  been  degraded  and  dangerous,  just  ^ 
in  Australia  the  same   conditions  have   made  \ 
spected  and  self-respecting  citizens  out  of  the  de- 
scendants of  convicts,  and  even  out  of  convicts  them- 
selves. 

It  may  be  doubted  if  the  relation  of  the  opening 
of  the  New  World  to  the  development  of  modern 
civilization  is  yet  fully  recognized.  In  many  re- 
spects the  discovery  of  Columbus  has  proved  the 
most  important  event  in  the  history  of  the  European 
world  since  the  birth  of  Christ.  How  important 
America  has  been  to  Europe  as  furnishing  an  outlet 
for  the  restless,  the  dissatisfied,  the  oppressed  and 
the  down-trodden  ;  how  influences  emanating  from 
the  freer  opportunities  and  freer  life  of  America 
have  reacted  upon  European  thought  and  life — we 
can  only  begin  to  realize  when  we  try  to  imagine 
what  would  have  been  the  present  condition  of 
Europe  had  Columbus  found  only  a  watery  waste 
between  Europe  and  Asia,  or  even  had  he  foimd 


40  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

here  a  continent  populated  as  India  or  China,  or 
Mexico,  were  populated. 

And,  correlative! J,  one  of  the  most  momentous 
events  that  could  happen  to  the  modern  world 
would  be  the  ending  of  this  possibility  of  westward 
expansion.  That  it  must  some  time  end  is  evident 
when  we  remember  that  the  earth  is  round. 

Practically,  this  event  is  near  at  hand.  Its  shadow 
is  even  now  stealing  over  us.  Not  that  there  is 
any  danger  of  this  continent  being  really  overpopu- 
lated.  Not  that  there  will  not  be  for  a  long  time 
to  come,  even  at  our  present  rate  of  growth,  plenty 
of  unused  land  or  of  land  only  partially  used.  But 
to  feel  the  results  of  what  is  called  pressure  of  pop- 
ulation, to  realize  here  pressure  of  the  same  kind 
that  forces  European  emigration  upon  our  shores, 
we  will  not  have  to  wait  for  that.  Europe  to-day  is 
not  overpopulated.  In  Ireland,  whence  we  have 
received  such  an  immense  immigi'ation,  not  one- 
sixth  of  the  soil  is  under  cultivation,  and  grass 
grows  and  beasts  feed  where  once  were  populous 
villages.  In  Scotland  there  is  the  solitude  of  the 
deer  forest  and  the  grouse  moor  where  a  century 
ago  were  homes  of  men.  One  may  ride  on  the 
railways  through  the  richest  agricultural  districts  of 
England  and  see  scarcely  as  many  houses  as  in  the 
valley  of  the  Platte,  where  the  buffalo  herded  a  few 
years  back. 

Twelve   months    ago,    when    the    hedges    were 


COMING    INCREASE    OF    SOCIAL    PRESSURE.  41 

blooming,  I  passed  along  a  lovely  English  road 
near  by  the  cottage  of  that  "  Shepherd  of  Salisbury 
Plain"  of  whom  I  read,  when  a  boy,  in  a  tract  which 
is  a  good  sample  of  the  husks  frequently  given  to 
children  as  religious  food,  and  which  is  still,  I  pre- 
sume, distributed  by  the  American,  as  it  is  by  the 
English,  Tract  Society.  On  one  side  of  the  road 
was  a  wide  expanse  of  rich  land,  in  which  no  plow- 
share had  that  season  been  struck,  because  its 
owner  demanded  a  higher  rent  than  the  farmers 
would  give.  On  the  other,  stretclied,  for  many  a 
broad  acre,  a  lordly  park,  its  velvety  verdure  un- 
trodden save  by  a  few  light-footed  deer.  And,  as 
we  passed  along,  my  companion,  a  native  of  those 
parts,  bitterly  complained  that,  since  this  lord  of 
the  manor  had  inclosed  the  little  village  green  and 
set  out  his  fences  to  take  in  the  grass  of  the  road- 
side, the  cottagers  could  not  keep  even  a  goose, 
and  the  children  of  the  village  had  no  place  to 
play  !  Place  there  was  in  plenty,  but,  so  far  as  the 
children  were  concerned,  it  might  as  well  be  in 
Africa  or  in  the  moon.  And  so  in  our  Far  West,  I 
have  seen  emigrants  toiling  painfully  for  long  dis- 
tances through  vacant  land  without  "finding  a  spot 
on  which  they  dared  settle.  In  a  country  where 
the  springs  and  streams  are  all  inclosed  by  walls 
he  cannot  scale,  the  wayfarer,  but  for  charity, 
might  perish  of  thirst,  as  in  a  desert.  There  is 
plenty  of  vacant  land  on  Manhattan  Island.     But 


42  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

on  Manhattan  Island  human  beings  are  packed 
closer  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  There  is 
plenty  of  fresh  air  all  around — one  man  owns  forty 
acres  of  it,  a  whiif  of  which  he  never  breathes,  since 
his  home  is  on  his  yacht  in  European  waters  ;  but, 
for  all  that,  thousands  of  children  die  in  New  York 
every  summer  for  want  of  it,  and  thousands  more 
would  die  did  not  charitable  people  subscribe  to 
fresh-air  funds.  The  social  pressure  which  forces 
on  our  shores  this  swelling  tide  of  immigration 
arises  not  from  the  fact  that  the  land  of  Europe  is 
all  in  use,  but  that  it  is  all  appropriated.  That  will 
soon  be  our  case  as  well.  Our  land  will  not  all  be 
used  ;  but  it  will  all  be  "  fenced  in." 

We  still  talk  of  our  vast  public  domain,  and 
figures  showing  millions  and  millions  of  acres  of 
unappropriated  public  land  yet  swell  grandly  in  the 
reports  of  our  Land  Office.  But  already  it  is  so 
difficult  to  find  public  land  fit  for  settlement,  that 
the  great  majority  of  those  wishing  to  settle  find  in 
cheaper  to  buy,  and  rents  in  California  and  the 
New  Northwest  run  from  a  quarter  to  even  one  half 
the  crop.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  area 
which  yet  figures  in  the  returns  of  our  public  do- 
main includes  all  the  great  mountain  chains,  all  the 
vast  deserts  and  dry  plains  fit  only  for  grazing,  or 
not  even  for  that ;  it  must  be  remembered  that  of 
what  is  really  fertile,  millions  and  millions  of  acres 
are  covered  by  i*ailroad  grants  as  yet  unpatented, 


COMING    IXCRKASE    OF    SOCIAL    PRESSURE.  43 

or  what  amounts  to  tlie  same  thing  to  the  settler, 
are  shadowed  by  them ;  that  much  is  held  by  ap- 
propriation of  the  water^  without  which  it  is  useless; 
and  that  much  more  is  held  under  claims  of  various 
kinds,  which,  whether  legal  or  illegal,  are  sufficient 
to  keep  the  settler  off  unless  he  will  consent  to  pay 
a  price,  or  to  mortgage  his  labor  for  years. 

Nevertheless,  land  with  us  is  still  comparatively 
ch^ap.  But  this  cannot  long  continue.  The  stream 
of  immigration  that  comes  swelling  in,  added  to  our 
steadily  augmenting  natural  increase,  will  soon 
now  so  occupy  the  available  lands  as  to  raise  the 
price  of  the  poorest  land  worth  settling  on  to  a  point 
we  have  never  known.  Nearly  twenty  years  ago 
Mr.  Wade,  of  Ohio,  in  a  speech  ia  the  United  States 
Senate,  predicted  that  by  the  close  of  the  century 
every  acre  of  good  agricultural  land  in  the  Union 
would  be  worth  at  least  $50.  That  his  prediction 
will  be  even  more  than  verified  we  may  already  see. 
By  the  close  of  the  century  our  population,  at  the 
normal  rate  of  increase,  will  be  over  forty  millions 
more  than  in  1880.  That  is  to  say,  within  the  next 
seventeen  years  an  additional  population  greater 
than  that  of  the  whole  United  States  at  the  close  of 
the  civil  war  will  be  demanding  room.  Where  will 
they  find  cheap  land?  There  is  no  further  West. 
Our  advance  has  reached  the  Pacific,  and  beyond 
the  Pacific  is  the  East,  with  its  teeming  millions. 
From  San  Diego  to  Puget  Sound  there  is  no  valley 


44  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

of  the  coast-line  that  is  not  settled  or  pre-empted. 
To  the  very  farthest  corners  of  the  Kepublic  settlers 
are  abeadj  going.  The  pressure  is  already  so  great 
that  speculation  and  settlement  are  beginning  to 
cross  the  northern  border  into  Canada  and  the 
southern  border  into  Mexico  ;  so  great  that  land  is 
being  settled  and  is  becoming  valuable  that  a  few 
years  ago  would  have  been  rejected — land  where 
winter  lasts  for  six  months  and  the  thermometer 
goes  down  into  the  forties  below  zero ;  land  where, 
owing  to  insufficient  rainfall,  a  crop  is  always  a  risk ; 
land  that  cannot  be  cultivated  at  all  without  irriga- 
tion. The  vast  spaces  of  the  western  half  of  the 
continent  do  not  contain  anything  like  the  propor- 
tion of  arable  land  that  does  the  eastern. '  The 
''great  American  desert"  yet  exists,  though  not 
now  marked  upon  our  maps.  There  is  not  to-day 
remaining  in  the  United  States  any  considerable 
body  of  good  land  unsettled  and  unclaimed,  upon 
which  settlers  can  go  with  the  prospect  of  finding  a 
homestead  on  Government  terms.  Already  the  tide 
of  settlement  presses  angrily  upon  the  Indian  reser- 
vations, and  but  for  the  power  of  the  general  govern- 
ment would  sweep  over  them.  Already,  although 
her  population  is  as  yet  but  a  fraction  more  than  six 
to  the  square  mile,  the  last  acre  of  the  vast  public 
domain  of  Texas  has  passed  into  private  hands,  the 
rush  to  purchase  during  the  past  year  having  been 


COMING   INCREASE    OF    SOCIAL    PRESSURE.  45 

such  tliat  many  thousands  of  acres  more  than  the 
State  had  were  sold. 

We  may  see  what  is  coming  by  the  avidity  with 
which  capitalists,  and  especially  foreign  capitalists, 
who  realize  what  is  the  value  of  land  where  none 
is  left  over  which  population  may  freely  spread,  are 
purchasing  land  in  the  United  States.  This  move- 
ment has  been  going  on  quietly  for  some  years,  until 
now  there  is  scarcely  a  rich  English  peer  or  wealthy 
English  banker  who  does  not,  either  individually  or 
as  the  member  of  some  syndicate,  own  a  great  tract 
of  our  new  land,  and  the  purchase  of  large  bodies 
for  foreign  account  is  going  on  every  day.  It  is 
with  these  absentee  landlords  that  our  coming 
millions  must  make  terms. 

Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that,  while  our  popula- 
tion is  increasing,  and  our  ' '  wild  lands  "  are  being 
appropriated,  the  productive  capacity  of  our  soil  is 
being  steadily  reduced,  which,  practically,  amounts 
to  the  same  thing  as  reducing  its  quantity.  Speak- 
ing generally,  the  agriculture  of  the  United  States 
is  an  exhaustive  agriculture.  We  do  not  return  to 
the  earth  what  we  take  from  it ;  each  crop  that  is 
harvested  leaves  the  soil  the  poorer.  We  are  cut- 
ting down  forests  which  we  do  not  replant ;  we  are 
shipping  abroad,  in  wheat  and  cotton  and  tobacco 
and  meat,  or  flushing  into  the  sea  through  the  sew- 
ers of  our  great  cities,  the  elements  of  fertility  that 


4:6  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

have  been  embedded  in  the  soil  bj  the  slow  pro- 
cesses of  nature,  acting  for  long  ages. 

The  day  is  near  at  hand  .when  it  will  be  no  longer 
possible  for  our  increasing  population  to  freely  ex- 
pand over  new  land ;  when  we  shall  need  for  our 
own  millions  tne  immense  surplus  of  foodstuffs 
now  exported ;  when  we  shall  not  only  begin  to 
feel  that  social  pressure  which  comes  when  natural 
resources  are  all  monopolized,  but  when  increasing 
social  pressure  here  will  increase  social  pressure  in 
Europe.  How  momentous  is  this  fact  we  begin  to 
realize  when  we  cast  about  for  such  anotlier  outlet 
as  the  United  States  has  furnished.  We  look  in 
vain.  The  British  possessions  to  the  north  of  us 
embrace  comparatively  little  arable  land;  the  val- 
leys of  the  Saskatchewan  and  the  Red  River  are  be- 
ing already  taken  up,  and  land  speculation  is  already 
raging  there  in  fever.  Mexico  oifers  opportunities 
for  American  enterprise  and  American  capital  and 
American  trade,  but  scarcely  for  American  emigra- 
tion. There  is  some  room  for  our  settlers  in  that 
northern  zone  that  has  been  kept  desolate  by  tierce 
Indians;  but  it  is  very  little.  The  table-land  of 
Mexico  and  those  portions  of  Central  and  South 
America  suited  to  our  people  are  already  well  filled 
by  a  population  whom  we  cannot  displace  unless, 
as  the  Saxons  displaced  the  ancient  Britons,  by  a 
war  of  extermination.  Anglo-Saxon  capital  and 
enterprise  and   influence  will   doubtless  dominate 


COMING   INCREASE    OF    SOCIAL    PRESStJRE.  47 

those  regions,  and  many  of  our  people  will  go 
there ;  but  it  will  be  as  Englishmen  go  to  India  or 
British  Guinea.  Where  land  is  already  granted 
and  where  peon  labor  can  be  had  for  a  song,  no 
such  emigration  can  take  place  as  that  which  has 
been  pushing  its  way  westward  over  the  United 
States.  So  of  Africa.  Our  race  has  made  a  per- 
manent lodgment  on  the  southern  extremity  of  that 
vast  continent,  but  its  northern  advance  is  met  by 
tropical  heats  and  the  presence  of  races  of  strong 
vitality.  On  the  north,  the  Latin  branches  of  the 
European  family  seem  to  have  again  become  accli- 
mated, and  will  probably  in  time  revive  the  ancient 
populousness  and  importance  of  Mediterranean  Af- 
rica ;  but  it  will  scarcely  furnish  an  outlet  for  more 
than  them.  As  for  Equatorial  Africa,  though  we 
may  explore,  and  civilize  and  develop,  we  cannot 
colonize  it  in  the  face  of  the  climate  and  of  races 
that  increase  rather  than  disappear  in  presence  of 
the  white  man.  The  arable  land  of  Australia  would 
not  merely  be  soon  well  populated  by  anything  like 
the  emigration  that  Europe  is  pouring  on  America, 
but  there  the  forestalling  of  land  goes  on  as  rapidly  as 
here.  Thus  we  come  again  to  that  greatest  of  the  con- 
tinents, from  which  our  race  once  started  on  its  west- 
ward way,  Asia  —  mother  of  peoples  and  religions 
— which  yet  contains  the  greater  part  of  the  human 
race — millions  who  live  and  die  in  all  but  utter  un- 
tjonsciousness  of  our  modern  worldc     In  the  awak- 


48  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

ening  of  those  peoples  by  the  impact  of  Western 
civilization  lies  one  of  the  greatest  problems  ot  the 
future. 

But  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  enter  into  such  specu- 
lations. What  I  want  to  point  out  is  that  we  are 
very  soon  to  lose  one  of  the  most  important  condi- 
tions under  which  our  civilization  has  been  develop- 
ing— that  possibility  of  expansion  over  virgin  soil 
that  has  given  scope  and  freedom  to  American  life, 
and  relieved  social  pressure  in  the  most  progress- 
ive European  nations.  Tendencies,  harmless  under 
this  condition,  may  become  most  dangerous  when  it 
is  changed.  Gunpowder  does  not  explode  until  it 
is  confined.  You  may  rest  your  hand  on  the  slov/ly 
ascending  jaw  of  a  hydraulic  press.  It  will  only 
gently  raise  it.  But  wait  a  moment  till  it  meets 
resistance ! 


CHAPTER  lY. 

TWO    OPPOSING   TENDENCIES. 

So  much  freer,  so  much  higher,  so  much  fuller 
and  wider  is  the  life  of  our  time,  that,  looking  back, 
we  cannot  help  feeling  something  like  pity,  if  not 
contempt,  for  preceding  generations. 

Comforts,  conveniences,  luxuries,  that  a  little 
while  ago  wealth  could  not  purchase,  are  now  mat- 
ters of  ordinary  use.  We  travel  in  an  hour,  easily 
and  comfortably,  what  to  our  fathers  was  a  hard 
day's  journey ;  we  send  in  minutes  messages  that, 
in  their  time,  would  have  taken  weeks.  We  are 
better  acquainted  with  remote  countries  than  they 
with  regions  little  distant;  we  know  as  common 
things  what  to  them  were  fast-locked  secrets  of 
nature  ;  our  world  is  larger,  our  horizon  is  wider ; 
in  the  years  of  our  lives  we  may  see  more,  do  more, 
learn  more. 

Consider  the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  the  quick 
ened  transmission  of  information.  Compare  the 
school-books  used  by  our  children  with  the  school- 
books  used  by  our  fathers ;  see  how  cheap  printing 
has  brought  within  the  reach  of  the  masses  the  very 
treasures  of  literature;  how  enormously  it  has 
widened  the  audience  of  the  novelist,  the  historian, 

49 


50  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

the  essayist  and  the  poet ;  see  how  superior  are  even 
the  trashy  novels  and  story-papers  in  which  shop- 
girls delight,  to  the  rude  ballads  and  "last  dying 
speeches  and  confessions,"  which  were  their  proto- 
types. Look  at  the  daily  newspapers,  read  even  by 
the  poorest,  and  giving  to  them  glimpses  of  the 
doings  of  all  classes  of  society,  news  from  all  parts 
of  the  world.  Consider  the  illustrated  journals  that 
every  week  bring  to  the  million  pictures  of  life 
in  all  phases  and  in  all  countries  —  bird's-eye  views 
of  cities,  of  grand  and  beautiful  landscapes;  the 
features  of  noted  men  and  women ;  the  sittings 
of  parliaments,  and  congresses,  and  conventions; 
the  splendor  of  courts,  and  the  wild  life  of  savages ; 
triumphs  of  art;  glories  of  architecture;  processes 
of  industr}^ ;  achievements  of  inventive  skilL  Such 
a  panorama  as  thus,  week  after  week,  passes  before 
the  eyes  of  connnon  men  and  women,  the  richest 
and  most  powerful  could  not  a  generation  ago  have 
commanded. 

These  things,  and  the  many  other  things  that  the 
mention  of  these  will  suggest,  are  necessarily  exert- 
ing a  powerful  influence  upon  thought  and  feeling. 
Superstitions  are  dying  out,  prejudices  are  giving 
way,  manners  and  customs  are  becoming  assimi- 
lated, sympathies  are  widening,  new  aspirations  are 
quickening  the  masses. 

We  come  into  the  world  with  minds  ready  to  re- 
ceive any  impression.     To  the  eyes  of  infancy  all  is 


TWO  OPPOSING  tp:xdenctes.  51 

new,  and  one  thing  is  no  more  wonderful  than 
another.  In  whatever  lies  beyond  common  expe- 
rience we  assume  the  beliefs  of  those  about  us,  and 
it  is  only  the  strongest  intellects  that  can  in  a  little 
raise  themselves  above  the  accepted  opinions  of 
their  times.  In  a  community  where  that  opinion 
prevailed,  the  vast  majority  of  us  would  as  unhesita- 
tingly believe  that  the  earth  is  a  plain,  supported 
by  a  gigantic  elephant,  as  we  now  believe  it  a 
sphere  circling  round  the  sun.  No  theory  is  too 
false,  no  fable  too  absurd^  no  superstition  too  de- 
grading for  acceptance  when  it  has  become  imbedded 
in  common  belief.  Men  will  submit  themselves 
to  tortures  and  to  death,  mothers  will  immolate 
their  children,  at  the  bidding  of  beliefs  they  thus 
accept.  What  more  unnatural  tlian  polygamy? 
Yet  see  how  long  and  how  widely  polygamy  has 
existed ! 

In  this  tendency  to  accept  what  we  find,  to  believe 
what  we  are  told,  is  at  once  good  and  evil.  It  is 
this  which  makes  social  advance  possible ;  it  is  this 
which  makes  it  so  slow  and  painful.  Each  genera- 
tion thus  obtains  without  effort  the  hard-won 
knowledge  bequeathed  to  it;  it  is  thus,  also,  en- 
slaved by  errors  and  perversions  which  it  in  the 
same  way  receives. 

It  is  thus  that  tyranny  is  maintained  and  super- 
stition perpetuated.  Polygamy  is  unnatural.  Ob- 
vious facts  of  universal  experience  prove  this.     The 


52  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

uniform  proportion  in  which  the  sexes  are  brought 
into  the  world  ;  the  exclusiveness  of  the  feeling  with 
which  in  healthy  conditions  they  attract  each  other ; 
the  necessities  imposed  by  the  slow  growth  and  de- 
velopment of  children,  point  to  the  union  of  one 
man  with  one  woman  as  the  intent  of  Nature.  Yet, 
although  it  is  repugnant  to  the  most  obvious  facts 
and  to  the  strongest  instincts,  polygamy  seems  a 
perfectly  natural  thing  to  those  educated  in  a  society 
where  it  has  become  an  accepted  institution,  and  it 
is  only  by  long  effort  and  much  struggling  that  this 
idea  can  be  eradicated.  So  with  slavery.  Even  to 
such  minds  as  those  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to  own 
a  man  seemed  as  natural  as  to  own  a  horse.  Even 
in  this  nineteenth  century  and  in  this  "land  of  lib- 
erty," how  long  has  it  been  since  those  who  denied 
the  right  of  property  in  human  flesh  and  blood  were 
denounced  as  "communists,"  as  "infidels,"  as 
"incendiaries,"  bent  on  uprooting  social  order  and 
destroying  all  property  rights.  So  with  monarchy, 
so  with  aristocracy,  so  with  many  other  things  as 
unnatural  that  are  still  unquestioningly  accepted. 
Can  anything  be  more  unnatural — that  is  to  say, 
more  repugnant  to  right  reason  and  to  the  facts  and 
laws  of  nature — than  that  those  who  work  least 
should  get  most  of  the  things  that  work  produces  ? 
"He  that  will  not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat." 
That  is  not  merely  the  word  of  the  Apostle ;  it  is 
the  obvious  law  of  Nature.     Yet  all  over  the  world. 


TWO    OPPOSING    TENDENCIES.  53 

hard  and  poor  is  the  fare  of  the  toiling  masses  ; 
while  those  who  aid  production  neither  with  hand 
nor  head  live  luxuriously  and  fare  sumptuously. 
This  we  have  been  used  to,  and  it  has  therefore 
seemed  to  us  natural,  just  as  polygamy,  slavery, 
aristocracy  and  monarchy  seem  natural  to  those 
accustomed  to  them. 

But  mental  habits  which  made  this  state  of  things 
seem  natural  are  breaking  uj) ;  superstitions  which 
prevented  its  being  questioned  are  melting  away. 
The  revelations  of  physical  science,  the  increased 
knowledge  of  other  times  and  other  peoples,  the 
extension  of  education,  emigration,  travel,  the  rise 
of  the  critical  spirit  and  the  changes  in  old  methods 
everywhere  going  on,  are  destroying  beliefs  which 
made  the  masses  of  men  content  with  the  position 
of  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  are  soft- 
ening manners  and  widening  sympathies,  are  ex- 
tending the  idea  of  human  equality  and  brother- 
hood. 

All  over  the  world  the  masses  of  men  are  becom- 
ing more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  conditions 
under  which  their  fathers  would  have  been  con- 
tented. It  is  in  vain  that  they  are  told  that  their 
situation  has  been  much  improved ;  it  is  in  vain 
that  it  is  pointed  out  to  them  that  comforts,  amuse- 
ments, opportunities,  are  within  their  reach  that 
their  fathers  would  not  have  dreamed  of.  The 
having  got  so  much,  only  leads  them  to  ask  why 


54  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

they  should  not  have  more.  Desire  grows  by  what 
it  feeds  on.  Man  is  not  like  the  ox.  He  has  no 
fixed  standard  of  satisfaction.  To  arouse  his  ambi- 
tion, to  educate  him  to  new  wants,  is  as  certain  to 
make  him  discontented  with  his  lot  as  to  make  that 
lot  harder.  We  resign  ourselves  to  what  we  think 
cannot  be  bettered  ;  but  when  we  realize  that  im- 
provement is  possible,  then  we  become  restive. 
This  is  the  explanation  of  the  paradox  that  De 
Tocqueville  thought  astonishing :  that  the  masses 
find  their  position  the  more  intolerable  the  more  it 
is  improved.  The  slave  codes  were  wise  that  pre- 
scribed pains  and  penalties  for  teaching  bondsmen 
to  read,  and  they  reasoned  well  who  opposed  popular 
education  on  the  ground  that  it  would  bring  revolu- 
tion. 

But  there  is  in  the  conditions  of  the  civilized 
world  to-day  something  more  portentous  than  a 
growing  restiveness  under  evils  long  endured. 
Everything  tends  to  awake  the  sense  of  natural 
equality,  to  arouse  the  aspirations  and  ambitions  of 
the  masses,  to  excite  a  keener  and  keener  perception 
of  the  gross  injustice  of  existing  inequalities  of  privi- 
lege and  wealth.  Yet,  at  the  same  time,  every- 
thing tends  to  the  rapid  and  monstrous  increase  of 
these  inequalities.  Never  since  great  estates  were 
eating  out  the  heart  of  Rome  has  the  world  seen 
such  enormous  fortunes  as  are  now  arising.  And 
never  more  utter  proletarians.     In  the  paoer  which 


Two    OPPOSING   TENDENCIES.  55 

contained  a  many-column  account  of  the  Yanderbilt 
ball,  with  its  gorgeous  dresses  and  its  wealth  of 
diamonds,  with  its  profusion  of  roses,  costing  $2 
each,  and  its  precious  wines  flowing  like  water,  I 
also  read  a  brief  item  telling  how,  at  a  station-house 
near  bj,  thirty-nine  persons  —  eighteen  of  them 
women  —  had  sought  shelter,  and  how  they  were 
all  marched  into  court  next  morning  and  sent  for 
six  months  to  prison.  ''The  women,"  said  the 
item,  "shrieked  and  sobbed  bitterly  as  they  were 
carried  to  prison."  Christ  was  born  of  a  woman. 
And  to  Mary  Magdalen  he  turned  in  tender  bless- 
ing. But  such  vermin  have  some  of  these  human 
creatures,  made  in  God's  image,  become,  that  we 
must  shovel  them  off  to  prison  without  being  too 
particular. 

The  railroad  is  a  new  thing.  It  has  scarcely 
begun  its  work.  Yet  it  has  already  differentiated 
the  man  who  counts  his  income  by  millions  every 
month,  and  the  thousands  of  men  glad  to  work  for 
him  at  from  90  cents  to  $1.50  a  day.  Who  shall 
set  bounds,  under  present  tendencies,  to  the  great 
fortunes  of  the  next  generation  ?  Or  to  the  correla- 
tives of  these  great  fortunes,  the  tramps  ? 

The  tendency  of  all  the  inventions  and  improve- 
ments so  wonderfully  augmenting  productive 
power  is  to  concentrate  enormous  wealth  in  the 
hands  of  a  few,  to  make  the  condition  of  the  many 
more  hopeless  ;  to  force  into  the  position  of  machines 


56  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

for  the  production  of  wealth  they  are  not  to  enjoy, 
men  whose  aspirations  are  being  aroused.  Without  a 
single  exception  that  I  can  think  of,  the  effect  of  all 
modern  industrial  improvements  is  to  production 
upon  a  large  scale,  to  the  minute  division  of  labor, 
to  the  giving  to  the  possession  of  large  capital  an 
overpowering  advantage.  Even  such  inventions  as 
the  telephone  and  the  type-writer  tend  to  the  con- 
centration of  wealth,  by  adding  to  the  ease  with 
which  large  businesses  can  be  managed,  and  lessen- 
ing limitations  that  after  a  certain  point  made  fur- 
ther extension  more  difficult. 

The  tendency  of  the  machine  is  in  every  thing  not 
merely  to  place  it  out  of  the  power  of  the  workman 
to  become  his  own  employer,  but  to  reduce  him  to 
the  position  of  a  mere  attendant  or  feeder  ;  to  dis- 
pense with  judgment,  skill  and  brains,  save  in  a 
few  overseers  ;  to  reduce  all  others  to  the  monoto- 
nous work  of  automatons,  to  which  there  is  no  future 
save  the  same  unvarying  round. 

Under  the  old  system  of  handicraft,  the  workman 
may  have  toiled  hard  and  long,  but  in  his  work  he 
had  companionship,  variety,  the  pleasure  that  comes 
of  the  exercise  of  creative  skill,  the  sense  of  seeing 
things  growing  under  his  hand  to  finished  form. 
He  worked  in  his  own  home  or  side  by  side  with 
his  employer.  Labor  was  lightened  by  emulation, 
by  gossip,  by  laughter,  by  discussion.  As  appren- 
tice, he  looked  forward  to  becoming  a  journeyman  ; 


TWO    OPPOSING    TENDENCIES.  57 

as  a  journeyman,  he  looked  forward  to  becorriing  a 
master  and  taking  an  apprentice  of  his  own.  With 
a  few  tools  and  a  little  raw  material  he  was  inde- 
pendent. He  dealt  directly  with  those  who  used 
the  finished  articles  he  producea.  If  he  could  not 
find  a  market  for  money  he  could  find  a  market  in 
exchange.  That  terrible  dread — the  dread  of  hav- 
ing the  opportunities  of  livelihood  shut  off ;  of  find- 
ing himself  utterly  helpless  to  provide  for  his  family, 
never  cast  its  shadow  over  him. 

Consider  the  blacksmith  of  the  industrial  era  now 
everywhere  passing  —  or  rather  the  "black  and 
white  smith,"  for  the  finished  workman  worked  in 
steel  as  well.  The  smithy  stood  by  roadside  or 
street.  Through  its  open  doors  were  caught  glimpses 
of  nature  ;  all  that  was  passing  could  be  seen.  Way- 
farers stopped  to  inquire,  neighbors  to  tell  or  hear 
the  news,  children  to  see  the  hot  iron  glow  and 
watch  the  red  sparks  fly.  Kow  the  smith  shoed  a 
horse  ;  now  he  put  on  a  wagon-tire  ;  now  he  forged 
and  tempered  a  tool ;  again  he  welded  a  broken 
andiron,  or  beat  out  with  graceful  art  a  crane  for 
the  deep  chimney-place,  or,  when  there  was  noth- 
ing else  to  do,  he  wrought  iron  into  nails. 

Go  now  into  one  of  those  enormous  establishments 
covering  acres  and  acres,  in  which  workmen  by  the 
thousand  are  massed  together,  and,  by  the  aid  of 
steam  and  machinery,  iron  is  converted  to  its  uses  at 
a  fraction  of  the  cost  of  the  old  system.     You  can- 


58  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

not  enter  without  permission  from  the  office,  for 
over  each  door  jou  will  find  the  sign,  "  Positively 
no  admittance."  If  you  are  permitted  to  go  in, 
you  must  not  talk  to  the  workmen  ;  but  that  makes 
little  difference,  as  amid  the  din  and  the  clatter, 
and  whirr  of  belts  and  wheels,  you  could  not  if 
you  would.  Here  you  find  men  doing  over  and 
over  the  selfsame  thing — passing,  all  day  long,  bars 
of  iron  through  great  rollers  ;  presenting  plates  to 
steel  jaws,  turning,  amid  clangor  in  which  you  can 
scarcely  "hear  yourself  think,"  bits  of  iron  over 
and  back  again,  sixty  times  a  minute,  for  hour  after 
hour,  for  day  after  day,  for  year  after  year.  In  the 
whole  great  establishment  there  will  be  not  a  man, 
save  here  and  there  one  who  got  his  training  under  the 
simpler  system  now  passing  away,  who  can  do  more 
than  some  minute  part  of  what  goes  to  the  making 
of  a  salable  article.  The  lad  learns  in  a  little  while 
how  to  attend  his  particular  machine.  Then  his 
progress  stops.  He  may  become  gray-headed  with- 
out learning  more.  As  his  children  grow,  the  only 
way  he  has  of  augmenting  his  income  is  by  setting 
them  to  work.  As  for  aspiring  to  become  master  of 
such  an  establishment,  with  its  millions  of  capital  in 
machinery  and  stock,  he  might  as  well  aspire  to  be 
King  of  England  or  Pope  of  Pome.  He  has  no 
more  control  over  the  conditions  that  give  him 
employment  than  has  the  passenger  in  a  railroad- 
car  over  the  motion  of  the  train.     Causes  which  he 


TWO    OPPOSING   TENDENCIES.  59 

can  neither  prevent  nor  foresee  may  at  any  time  stop 
his  machine  and  throw  him  upon  the  world,  an  ut- 
terly unskilled  laborer,  unaccustomed  even  to  swing 
a  pick  or  handle  a  spade.  When  times  are  good, 
and  his  employer  is  coining  money,  he  can  only  get 
an  advance  by  a  strike  or  a  threatened  strike.  At 
the  least  symptoms  of  harder  times  his  wages  are 
scaled  down,  and  he  can  only  resist  by  a  strike, 
which  means,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  no 
wages. 

I  have  spoken  of  but  one  trade  ;  but  the  tendency 
is  the  same  in  all  others.  This  is  the  form  that  in- 
dustrial organization  is  everywhere  assuming,  even 
in  agriculture.  Great  corporations  are  now  stock- 
ing immense  ranges  with  cattle,  and  "  bonanza 
farms  "  are  cultivated  by  gangs  of  nomads  destitute 
of  anything  that  can  be  called  home.  In  all  occu- 
pations the  workman  is  steadily  becoming  divorced 
from  the  tools  and  opportunities  of  labor  ;  every- 
where the  inequalities  of  fortune  are  becoming  more 
glaring.  And  this  at  a  time  when  thought  is  being 
quickened  ;  when  the  old  forces  of  conservatism  are 
giving  way  ;  when  the  idea  of  human  equality  is 
growing  and  spreading. 

When  between  those  who  work  and  want  and 
those  who  live  in  idle  luxury  there  is  so  great  a 
gulf  fixed  that  in  popular  imagination  they  seem  to 
belong  to  distinct  orders  of  beings  ;  when,  in  the 
name  of  religion,  it  is  persistently  instilled  into  the 


60  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

masses  that  all  things  in  this  world  are  ordered  by 
Divine  Providence,  which  appoints  to  each  his  place  ; 
when  children  are  taught  from  the  earliest  infancy 
that  it  is,  to  use  the  words  of  the  Episcopal  cate- 
chism, their  duty  toward  God  and  man  to  "honor 
and  obey  the  civil  authority,"  to  "order  themselves 
lowly  and  reverently  toward  their  betters,  and  to  do 
their  duty  in  that  state  of  life  in  which  it  has  pleased 
God  to  call  them";  when  these  counsels  of  humil- 
ity, of  contentment  and  of  self-abasement  are  en- 
forced by  the  terrible  threat  of  an  eternity  of 
torture,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  poor  are  taught 
to  believe  that  if  they  patiently  bear  their  lot  here 
God  will  after  death  translate  them  to  a  heaven 
where  there  is  no  private  property  and  no  pov- 
erty, the  most  glaring  inequalities  in  condition  may 
excite  neither  envy  nor  indignation. 

But  the  ideas  that  are  stirring  in  the  world  to-day 
are  diiferent  from  these. 

Near  nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  when  another 
civilization  was  developing  monstrous  inequalities, 
when  the  masses  everywhere  were  being  ground 
into  hopeless  slavery,  there  arose  in  a  Jewish  village 
an  unlearned  carpenter,  who,  scorning  the  ortho- 
doxies and  ritualisms  of  the  time,  preached  to  labor- 
ers and  fishermen  the  gospel  of  the  fatherhood  of 
God,  of  the  equality  and  brotherhood  of  men,  who 
taught  his  disciples  to  pray  for  the  coming  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth.  The  college  professors 


TWO   OPPOSING   TENDENCIES.  61 

sneered  at  him,  the  orthodox  preachers  denounced 
him.  He  was  reviled  as  a  dreamer,  as  a  disturber, 
as  a  "  communist,"  and,  finally,  organized  society 
took  the  alarm,  and  he  was  crucified  between  two 
thieves.  But  the  word  went  forth,  and,  spread  by 
fugitives  and  slaves,  made  its  way  against  power 
and  against  persecution  till  it  revolutionized  the 
world,  and  out  of  the  rotting  old  civilization  brought 
the  germ  of  the  new.  Then  the  privileged  classes 
rallied  again,  carved  the  effigy  of  the  man  of  the 
people  in  the  courts  and  on  the  tombs  of  kings,  in 
his  name  consecrated  inequality,  and  wrested  his 
gospel  to  the  defense  of  social  injustice.  But  again 
the  same  great  ideas  of  a  common  fatherhood,  of  a 
common  brotherhood,  of  a  social  state  in  which 
none  shall  be  overworked  and  none  shall  want, 
begin  to  quicken  in  common  thought. 

When  a  mighty  wind  meets  a  strong  current,  it 
does  not  portend  a  smooth  sea.  And  whoever  will 
think  of  the  opposing  tendencies  beginning  to  de- 
velop will  appreciate  the  gravity  of  the  social  prob- 
lems the  civilized  world  must  soon  meet.  He  will 
also  understand  the  meaning  of  Christ's  words  when 
he  said : 

'^Thinlc  not  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth.  I 
come  not  to  send  peace^  hut  a  swords 


CHAPTEE  Y. 

THE   MARCH    OF    CONCENTRATION. 

In  1790,  at  the  time  of  the  first  census  of  the 
United  States,  tlie  cities  contained  but  3.3  per  cent 
of  the  whole  population.  In  1880  the  cities  con- 
tained 22.5  per  cent  of  the  population.  This  ten- 
dency of  population  to  concentrate  is  one  of  the 
marked  features  of  our  time.  All  over  the  civilized 
world  the  great  cities  are  growing  even  faster  than 
the  growth  of  population.  The  increase  in  the 
population  of  England  and  Scotland  during  the 
present  century  has  been  in  the  cities.  In  France, 
where  population  is  nearly  stationary,  the  large 
cities  are  year  by  year  becoming  larger.  In  Ire- 
land, where  population  is  steadily  declining,  Dublin 
and  Belfast  are  steadily  growing. 

The  same  great  agencies — steam  and  machinery 
— that  are  thus  massing  population  in  cities  are 
operating  even  more  powerfully  to  concentrate  in- 
dustry and  trade.  This  is  to  be  seen  wherever  the 
new  forces  have  had  play,  and  in  every  branch  of 
industry,  from  such  primary  ones  as  agriculture, 
stock-raising,  mining  and  fishing,  up  to  those  crea- 
ted by  recent  invention,  such  as  railroading,  tele- 
graphing, or  the  lighting  by  gas  or  electricity. 

62 


THE    MARCH    OF    CONCKNTRATION.  63 

It  has  been  stated  on  the  authority  of  the  United 
States  Census  Bureau  that  the  average  size  of  farms 
is  decreasing  in  the  United  States.  This  statement 
is  not  only  inconsistent  with  facts  obvious  all  over 
the  United  States,  and  with  the  tendencies  of  agri- 
culture in  other  countries,  such  as  Great  Britain, 
but  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  returns  furnished  by 
the  Census  Bureau  itself.  According  to  the  "Com- 
pendium of  the  Tenth  Census,"  the  increase  of  the 
number  of  farms  in  the  United  States  during  the 
decade  between  1870  and  1880  was  about  50  per 
cent,  and  the  returns  in  the  eight  classes  of  farms 
enumerated  show  a  steady  diminution  in  the  smaller 
sized  farms  and  a  stead}'  increase  in  the  larger.  In 
the  class  under  three  acres,  the  decrease  during  the 
decade  was  about  37  per  cent ;  between  three  and 
ten  acres,  about  21  per  cent ;  between  ten  and 
twenty  acres,  about  14  per  cent ;  between  twenty 
and  fifty  acres,  something  less  than  8  per  cent. 
With  the  class  between  50  and  100  acres,  the  in- 
crease begins,  amounting  in  this  class  to  about  37 
per  cent.  In  the  next  class,  between  100  and  500 
acres,  the  increase  is  nearly  200  per  cent.  In  the 
class  between  500  and  1,000  acres,  it  is  nearly  400 
per  cent.  In  the  class  over  1,000  acres,  the  largest 
given,  it  amounts  to  almost  700  per  cent. 

How,  in  the  face  of  these  figures,  the  Census 
Bureau  can  report  a  decline  in  the  average  size  of 
farms  in  the  United  States  from  153  acres  in  1870 


64  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

to  134:  acres  in  1880  I  cannot  understand.  Nor  is 
it  worth  while  here  to  inquire.  The  incontestable 
fact  is  that,  like  everything  else,  the  ownership  of 
land  is  concentrating,  and  farming  is  assuming  a 
larger  scale.  ^  This  is  due  to  the  improvements  in 
agricultural  maciiinerj,  which  make  farming  a 
business  requiring  more  capital,  to  the  enhanced 
value  of  land,  to  the  changes  produced  by  rail- 
roads, and  the  advantage  which  special  rates  give 
the  large  over  the  small  producer.  That  it  is  an 
accelerating  tendency  there  is  no  question.  The 
new  era  in  farming  is  only  beginning.  And  what- 
ever be  its  gains,  it  involves  the  reduction  of  the 
great  body  of  American  farmers  to  the  ranks  of 
tenants  or  laborers.  There  are  no  means  of  discov- 
ering the  increase  of  tenant  farming  in  the  United 
States  during  the  last  decade,  as  no  returns  as  to 
tenantry  were  made  prior  to  the  last  census  ;  but 
that  shows  that  there  were  in  the  United  States  in 
1880  no  less  than  1,024,601  tenant  farmers,  f  If,  in 
addition  to  this,  we  could  get  at  the  number  of 
farmers  nominally  owning  their  own  land,  but  who 
are  in  reality  paying  rent  in  the  shape  of  interest 
on  mortgages,  the  result  would  be  astounding. 

How  in  all  other  branches  of  industry  the  same 
process  is  going  on,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to 
speak.     It  is  everywhere  obvious  that  the  indepen- 


*  For  a  further  examination  of  the  Census  Report  as  to  the  average 
size  of  farms,  see  Appendix. 

t  The  total  number  of  farmers  and  planters  is  given  at  4,225,945. 


THE   MARCH    OF   CONCENTRATION.  65 

dent  mechanic  is  becoming  an  operative,  the  little 
storekeeper  a  salesman  in  a  big  store,  the  small 
mercliant  a  clerk  or  bookkeeper,  and  that  men,  nnder 
the  old  system  independent,  are  being  massed  in 
the  employ  of  great  firms  and  corporations.  But 
the  enect  of  this  is  scarcely  realized.  A  large  class 
of  people,  including  many  professed  public  teach- 
ers, are  constantly  talking  as  though  energy,  in- 
dustry and  economy  were  alone  necessary  to  busi- 
ness success — are  constantly  pointing  to  the  fact 
that  men  who  began  with  nothing  are  now  rich,  as 
proof  that  any  one  can  begin  with  nothing  and  get 
rich. 

That  most  of  our  rich  men  did  begin  with  noth- 
ing is  true.  But  that  the  same  success  could  be 
as  easily  won  now  is  not  true.  Times  of  change 
always  afford  opportunities  for  the  rise  of  indi- 
viduals, which  disappear  when  social  relations  are 
again  adjusted.  We  have  not  only  been  overrunning 
a  new  continent,  but  the  introduction  of  steam  and 
the  application  of  machinery  have  brought  about 
industrial  changes  such  as  the  world  never  before 
saw. 

When  William  the  Conqueror  parceled  out  Eng- 
land among  his  followers,  a  feudal  aristocracy  was 
created  out  of  an  army  of  adventurers.  But  when 
society  had  hardened  again,  a  hereditary  nobility 
had  formed  into  which  no  common  man  could  hope 
to  win  his  way,  and  the  descendants  of  William's 


DO  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

adventurers  looked  down  upon  men  of  their  fatlier^s 
class  as  upon  beings  formed  of  inferior  clay.  So 
when  a  new  country  is  rapidly  settling,  those  who 
come  while  land  is  cheap  and  industry  and  trade 
are  in  process  of  organization  have  opportunities 
that  those  who  start  from  the  same  plane  when  land 
has  become  valuable  and  society  has  formed  cannot 
have. 

The  rich  men  of  the  first  generation  in  a  new 
country  are  always  men  w4io  started  with  nothing, 
but  the  rich  men  of  subsequent  generations  are 
generally  those  who  inherited  their  start.  In  the 
United  States,  when  we  hear  of  a  wealthy  man,  we 
naturally  ask,  "  How  did  he  make  his  money?''  for 
the  presumption,  over  the  greater  part  of  the  country, 
is  that  he  acquired  it  himself.  In  England  they  do 
not  ordinarily  ask  that  question— there  the  pre- 
sumption is  that  he  inherited  it.  But,  though  the 
soil  of  England  was  parceled  out  long  ago^  the  great 
changes  consequent  upon  the  introduction  of  steam 
and  machinery  have  there,  as  here,  opened  oppor- 
tunities to  rise  from  the  ranks  of  labor  to  great 
wealth.  Those  opportunities  are  now  closed  or 
closing.  When  a  railroad  train  is  slowly  moving 
off,  a  single  step  may  put  one  on  it.  But  in  a  few 
minutes  those  who  have  not  taken  that  step  may 
run  themselves  out  of  breath  in  the  hopeless  en- 
deavor to  overtake  the  train.  It  is  absurd  to  think 
that  it  is  easy  to  step  aboard  a  train  at  full  speed 


THE    MARCH    OF    CONCENTRATIOX.  67 

because  those  who  got  on  board  at  starting  did  so 
easily.  So  is  it  absurd  to  think  that  opportunities 
open  when  steam  and  machinery  were  beginning 
their  concentrating  work  will  remain  open. 

An  English  friend,  a  wealthy  retired  Manchester 
manufacturer,  once  told  me  the  story  of  his  hie. 
How  he  went  to  work  at  eight  years  of  age  helping 
make  twine,  when  twine  was  made  entirely  hy 
hand.  How,  when  a  ycung  man,  he  walked. to 
Manchester,  and  having  got  credit  for  a  bale  of  flax, 
made  it  into  twine  and  sold  it.  How,  building  up 
a  little  trade,  he  got  others  to  work  for  him.  How, 
when  machinery  began  to  be  invented  and  steam 
was  introduced,  he  took  advantage  of  them,  until 
he  had  a  big  factory  and  made  a  fortune,  when  he 
withdrew  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  at  ease,  leav- 
ing his  business  to  his  son. 

"Supposing  you  were  a  young  man  now,"  said 
I,  "could  you  walk  into  Manchester  and  do  that 
again  V 

"IN^o,"  replied  he;  "no  one  could.  I  couldn't 
with  fifty  thousand  pounds  in  place  of  my  five  shil- 
lings." 

So  in  every  branch  of  business  in  which  the  new 
agencies  have  begun  to  reach  anything  like  develop- 
ment. Leland  Stanford  drove  an  ox-team  to  Califor- 
nia ;  Henry  Yillard  came  here  from  Germany  a  poor 
boy,  became  a  newspaper  reporter,  and  rode  a  mule 
from  Kansas  City  to  Denver  when  the  plains  wer^^ 


bo  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

swarming  with  Indians — a  thing  no  one  with  a  bank 
account  would  do.  Stanford  and  his  associates  got 
hold  of  the  Central  Pacific  enterprise,  with  its  gov- 
ernment endowments,  and  are  now  masters  of 
something  like  twelve  thousand  miles  of  rail,  mill- 
ions of  acres  of  land,  steamship  lines,  express  com- 
panies, banks  and  newspapers,  to  say  nothing  of 
legislatures,  congressmen,  judges,  etc.  So  Heury 
Yillard,  by  a  series  of  fortunate  accidents,  which  he 
had  energy  and  tact  to  improve,  got  hold  of  the 
Oregon  Steam  Navigation  combination,  and  of  the 
Northern  Pacific  endowment,  and  has  become  the 
railroad  king  of  the  immense  domain  north  of  the 
Stanford  dominions,  having  likewise  his  thousands 
of  miles  of  road,  millions  of  acres  of  land,  his  news- 
papers, political  servitors,  and  literary  brushers-oif 
of  flies,  and  being  able  to  bring  over  a  shipload  of 
lords  and  barons  to  see  him  drive  a  golden  spike. 

Now,  it  is  not  merely  that  such  opportunities  as 
these  which  have  made  the  Stanfords  and  Yillards 
so  great,  come  only  with  the  opening  of  new  countries 
and  the  development  of  new  industrial  agents ;  but 
that  the  rise  of  the  Stanfords  and  Yillards  makes 
impossible  the  rise  of  others  such  as  they.  Who- 
ever now  starts  a  railroad  within  the  domains  of 
either  must  become  subordinate  and  tributary  to 
them.  The  great  railroad  king  alone  can  fight  the 
great  railroad  king,  and  control  of  the  railroad  sys- 
tem not   only  gives  the  railroad  kings  control  of 


THE    MAECH    OF    CONCENTRATION.  69 

branch  roads,  of  express  companies,  stage  lines, 
steamship  lines,  etc.,  not  only  enables  them  to  make 
or  unmake  the  smaller  towns,  but  it  enables  them 
to  "size  the  pile"  of  any  one  who  develops  a  busi- 
ness requiring  transportation,  and  to  transfer  to 
their  own  pockets  any  surplus  beyond  what,  after 
careful  consideration,  they  think  he  ought  to  make. 
The  rise  of  these  great  powers  is  like  the  growth  of 
a  great  tree,  which  draws  the  moisture  from  the  sur- 
rounding soil,  and  stunts  all  other  vegetation  by  its 
shade. 

So,  too,  does  concentration  operate  in  all  busi- 
nesses. The  big  mill  crushes  out  the  little  mill. 
The  big  store  undersells  the  little  store  till  it  gets 
rid  of  its  competition.  On  the  top  of  the  building 
of  the  American  News  Company,  on  Chambers 
street,  'New  York,  stands  a  newsboy  carved  in  mar- 
ble. It  was  in  this  way  that  the  managing  man  of 
that  great  combination  began.  But  what  was  at 
first  the  union  of  a  few  sellers  of  newspapers  for 
mutual  convenience  has  become  such  a  powerful 
concern,  that  combination  after  combination,  backed 
with  capital  and  managed  with  skill,  have  gone 
down  in  the  attempt  to  break  or  share  its  monopoly. 
The  newsboy  may  look  upon  the  statue  that  crowns 
the  building  as  the  young  Englishman  who  goes  to 
India  to  take  a  clerical  position  may  look  upon  the 
statue  of  Lord  Clive.  It  is  a  lesson  and  an  incen- 
tive, to  be  sure  ;  but  just  as  Clive's  victories,  by  es- 


70  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

tablishing  the  English  dominion  in  India,  made 
such  a  career  as  his  impossible  again,  so  does  the 
success  of  such  a  concern  as  the  American  News 
Company  make  it  impossible  for  men  of  small  capi- 
tal to  establish  another  such  business. 

So  may  the  printer  look  upon  the  Tribune  build- 
ing, or  the  newspaper  writer  upon  that  of  the  Herald. 
A  Greeley  or  a  Bennett  could  no  longer  hope  to  es- 
tablish a  first-class  paper  in  New  York,  or  to  get 
control  of  one  already  established,  unless  he  got  a 
Jay  Gould  to  back  him.  Even  in  our  newest  cities 
the  day  has  gone  by  when  a  few  printers  and  a  few 
writers  could  combine  and  start  a  daily  paper.  To 
say  nothing  of  the  close  corporation  of  the  Asso- 
ciated Press,  the  newspaper  has  become  an  immense 
machine,  requiring  large  capital,  and  for  the  most 
part  it  is  written  by  literary  operatives,  who  must 
write  to  suit  the  capitalist  that  controls  it. 

In  the  last  generation  a  full-rigged  Indiaman 
would  be  considered  a  very  large  vessel  i^  she  reg- 
istered 500  tons.  Now  we  are  building  coasting 
schooners  of  1,000  tons.  It  is  not  long  since  our 
first-class  ocean  steamers  were  of  1,200  or  1,500  tons. 
Now  the  crack  steamers  of  the  transatlantic  route 
are  rising  to  10,000  tons.  Not  merely  are  there 
relatively  fewer  captains,  but  the  chances  of  modern 
captains  are  not  as  good.  The  captain  of  a  great 
transatlantic  steamer  recently  told  me*  that  he  got 
no  more  pay  now  than  when  as  a  young  man  he 


THE    MARCH    OF    CONCENTRATION.  7 1 

commanded  a  small  sailing-ship.  [N'or  is  there  now 
any  "primage,"  any  "venture,"  any  chance  of  be- 
coming owner  as  well  as  captain  of  one  of  these 
great  steamers. 

Under  any  condition  of  things  short  of  a  rigid 
system  of  hereditary  caste,  there  will,  of  course, 
always  be  men  who,  by  force  of  great  abilities  and 
happy  accidents,  win  their  way  from  poverty  to 
wealth,  and  from  low  to  high  position ;  but  the  strong 
tendencies  of  the  time  are  to  make  this  more  and 
more  difficult.  Jay  Gould  is  probably  a  smarter 
man  than  the  present  Yanderbilt.  Had  they  started 
even,  Vanderbilt  might  now  have  been  peddling 
mouse-traps  or  working  for  a  paltry  salary  as  some 
one's  clerk,  while  Gould  counted  his  scores  of  mill- 
ions. But  with  all  his  money-making  ability  Gould 
cannot  overcome  the  start  given  b}^  the  enormous 
acquisitions  of  the  first  Yanderbilt.  And  when  the 
sons  of  the  present  great  money-makers  take  their 
places,  the  chances  of  rivalry  on  the  part  of  any- 
body else's  sons  will  be  much  less. 

All  the  tendencies  of  the  present  are  not  merely 
to  the  concentration,  but  to  the  perpetuation,  of 
great  fortunes.  There  are  no  crusades  ;  the  habits 
of  the  very  rich  are  not  to  that  mad  extravagance 
that  could  dissipate  such  fortunes  ;  high  play  has 
gone  out  of  fashion,  and  the  gambling  of  the  Stock 
Exchange  is  more  dangerous  to  short  than  to  long 
purses.     Stocks,  bonds,  mortgages,  safe  deposit  and 


72  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

trust  companies  aid  the  retention  of  large  wealth, 
and  all  modern  agencies  enlarge  the  sphere  of  its 
successful  employment. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  mere  laborer  is  becoming 
more  helpless,  and  small  capitals  find  it  more  and 
more  difficult  to  compete  with  larger  capitals.  The 
greater  railroad  companies  are  swallowing  up  the 
lesser  railroad  companies  ;  one  great  telegraph  com- 
pany already  controls  the  telegraph  wires  of  the 
continent,  and,  to  save  the  cost  of  buying  up  more 
patents,  pays  inventors  not  to  invent.  As  in  Eng- 
land, nearly  all  the  public-houses  have  passed  into 
the  hands  of  the  great  brewers,  so,  here,  large  firms 
start  young  men,  taking  chattel  mortgages  on  their 
stock.  As  in  Great  Britain,  the  supplying  of  rail- 
way passengers  with  eatables  and  drinkables  has 
passed  into  the  hands  of  a  single  great  company, 
and  in  Paris  one  large  restaurateur,  with  numerous 
branches,  is  taking  the  trade  of  the  smaller  ones,  so 
here  the  boys  who  sell  papers  and  peanuts  on  the 
trains  are  employes  of  companies,  and  bundles  are 
carried  and  errands  run  by  corporations. 

I  am  not  denying  that  this  tendency  is  largely  to 
subserve  public  convenience.  I  am  merely  point- 
ing out  that  it  exists.  A  great  change  is  going  on 
all  over  the  civilized  world  similar  to  that  infeuda- 
tion  which,  in  Europe,  during  the  rise  of  the  feudal 
system,  converted  free  proprietors  into  vassals,  and 
brought  all  society  into  subordination  to  a  hierarchy 


THE    MARCH   OF    CONCENTRATION.  73 

of  wealth  and  privilege.  Whether  the  new  aristoc- 
racy is  hereditary  or  not  makes  little  difference. 
Chance  alone  may  determine  who  will  get  the  few 
prizes  of  a  lottery.  But  it  is  not  the  less  certain 
that  the  vast  majority  of  all  who  take  part  in  it 
must  draw  blanks.  The  forces  of  the  new  era  have 
not  yet  had  time  to  make  status  hereditary,  but 
we  may  clearly  see  that  when  the  industrial  organi- 
zation compels  a  thousand  workmen  to  take  service 
under  one  master,  the  proportion  of  masters  to  men 
will  be  but  as  one  to  a  thousand,  though  the  one 
may  come  from  the  ranks  of  the  thousand.  "Mas- 
ter ! "  We  don't  like  the  word.  It  is  not  American  ! 
But  what  is  the  use  of  objecting  to  the  word  when 
we  have  the  thing.  The  man  who  gives  me  em- 
ployment, which  I  must  have  or  suffer,  that  man  is 
my  master,  let  me  call-  him  what  I  will. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    WEONG    IN   EXISTING    SOCIAL    CONDITIONS. 

The  comfortable  theory  that  it  is  in  the  nature  of 
things  that  some  should  be  poor  and  some  should 
be  rich,  and  that  the  gross  and  constantly  increasing 
inequalities  in  the  distribution  of  wealth  imply  no 
fault  in  our  institutions,  pervades  our  literature,  and 
is  taught  in  the  press,  in  the  church,  in  school  and 
in  college. 

This  is  a  free  country,  we  are  told  —  every  man 
has  a  vote  and  every  man  has  a  chance.  The  la- 
borer's son  may  become  President;  poor  boys  of 
to-day  will  be  millionaires  thirty  or  forty  years  from 
now,  and  the  millionaire's  grandchildren  will  prob- 
ably be  poor.  What  more  can  be  asked  ?  If  a  man 
has  energy,  industry,  prudence  and  foresight,  he 
may  win  his  way  to  great  wealth.  If  he  has  not 
the  ability  to  do  this  he  must  not  complain  of  those 
who  have.  If  some  enjoy  much  and  do  little,  it  is 
because  they,  or  their  parents,  possessed  superior 
qualities  which  enabled  them  to  "  acquire  property  " 
or  "make  money."  If  others  must  work  hard  and 
get  little,  it  is  because  they  have  not  yet  got  their 
start,  because  they  are  ignorant,  shiftless,  unwilling 
to  practice  that  economy  necessary  for  the  first  ac- 

74 


THE  WRONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         Y5 

cumulation  of  capital ;  or  because  their  fathers  were 
wanting  in  these  respects.  The  inequalities  in  con- 
dition result  from  the  inequalities  of  human  nature, 
from  the  difference  in  the  powers  and  capacities  of 
different  men.  If  one  has  to  toil  ten  or  twelve 
hours  a  day  for  a  few  hundred  dollars  a  year,  while 
another,  doing  little  or  no  hard  work,  gets  an  in- 
come of  many  thousands,  it  is  because  all  that  the 
former  contributes  to  the  ^augmentation  of  the  com- 
mon stock  of  wealth  is  little  more  than  the  mere 
force  of  his  muscles.  He  can  expect  little  more 
than  the  animal,  because  he  brings  into  play  little 
more  than  animal  powers.  He  is  but  a  private  in 
the  ranks  of  the  great  army  of  industry,  who  has 
but  to  stand  still  or  march,  as  he  is  bid.  The  other 
is  the  organizer,  the  general,  who  guides  and  wields 
the  whole  great  machine,  who  must  think,  plan 
and  provide  ;  and  his  larger  income  is  only  com- 
mensurate with  the  far  higher  and  rarer  powers 
which  he  exercises,  and  the  far  greater  importance 
of  the  function  he  fulfills.  Shall  not  education  have 
its  reward,  and  skill  its  payment?  What  incentive 
would  there  be  to  the  toil  needed  to  learn  to  do 
anything  well  were  great  prizes  not  to  be  gained 
by  those  who  learn  to  excel?  It  would  not  merely 
be  gross  injustice  to  refuse  a  Raphael  or  a  Rubens 
more  than  a  house-painter,  but  it  would  prevent  the 
development  of  great  painters.  To  destroy  inequal- 
ities in  condition  would  be  to  destroy  the  incentive 


76  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

to  progress.  To  quarrel  with  them  is  to  quarrel 
with  the  laws  of  nature.  We  might  as  well  rail 
against  the  length  of  the  days  or  the  phases  of  the 
moon ;  complain  that  there  are  valleys  and  moun- 
tains ;  zones  of  tropical  heat  and  regions  of  eternal 
ice.  And  were  we  by  violent  measures  to  divide 
w^ealth  equally,  we  should  accomplish  nothing  but 
harm ;  in  a  little  while  there  would  be  inequalities 
as  great  as  before. 

This,  in  substance,  is  the  teaching  which  we  con- 
stantly hear.  It  is  accepted  by  some  because  it  is 
flattering  to  their  vanity,  in  accordance  with  their 
interests  or  pleasing  to  their  hope  ;  by  others,  be- 
cause it  is  dinned  into  their  ears.  Like  all  false 
theories  that  obtain  wide  acceptance,  it  contains 
much  truth.  But  it  is  truth  isolated  from  other 
truth  or  alloyed  with  falsehood. 
•  To  try  to  pump  out  a  ship  with  a  hole  in  her 
bottom  would  be  hopeless ;  but  that  is  not  to  say 
that  leaks  may  not  be  stopped  and  ships  pumped 
dry.  It  is  undeniable  that,  under  present  conditions, 
inequalities  in  fortune  would  tend  to  reassert  them- 
selves even  if  arbitrarily  leveled  for  a  moment; 
but  that  does  not  prove  that  the  conditions  from 
which  this  tendency  to  inequality  springs  may  not 
be  altered.  Nor  because  there  are  differences  in 
human  qualities  and  powers  does  it  follow  that  ex- 
isting inequalities  of  fortune  are  thus  accounted  for. 
I  have  seen  very  fast   compositors  and  very  slow 


THE  WKONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         7T 

compositors,  but  the  fastest  I  ever  saw  could  not 
set  twice  as  much  type  as  the  slowest,  and  I  doubt 
if  in  other  trades  the  variations  are  greater.  Be- 
tween normal  men  the  difference  of  a  sixth  or.  sev- 
enth is  a  great  difference  in  height — the  tallest 
giant  ever  known  was  scarcely  more  than  four  times 
as  tall  as  the  smallest  dwarf  ever  known,  and  I 
doubt  if  any  good  observer  will  say  that  the  mental 
differences  of  men  are  greater  than  the  physical 
differences.  Yet  we  already  have  men  hundreds  of 
millions  of  times  richer  than  other  men. 

That  he  who  produces  should  have,  that  he  who 
saves  should  enjoy,  is  consistent  with  human  reason 
and  with  the  natural  order.  But  existing  inequali- 
ties of  wealth  cannot  be  justified  on  this  ground. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  how  many  great  fortunes  can  be 
truthfully  said  to  have  been  fairly  earned?  How 
many  of  them  represent  wealth  produced  by  their 
possessors  or  those  from  whom  their  present  posses- 
sors derived  them  ?  Did  there  not  go  to  the  forma- 
tion of  all  of  them  something  more  than  superior 
industry  and  skill?  Such  qualities  may  give  the 
first  start,  but  when  fortunes  begin  to  roll  up  into 
millions  there  will  always  be  found  some  element  of 
monopoly,  some  appropriation  of  wealth  produced 
by  others.  Often  there  is  a  total  absence  of  superior 
industry,  skill  or  self-denial,  and  merely  better  luck 
or  greater  unscrupulousness. 


78  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

An  acquaintance  of  mine  died  in  San  Francisco 
recently,  leaving  $4,000,000,  which  will  go  to  heirs  to 
be  looked  up  in  England.  I  have  known  many  men 
more  industrious,  more  skillful,  more  temperate 
than  he — men  who  did  not  or  who  will  not  leave  a 
cent.  This  man  did  not  get  his  wealth  by  his  in- 
dustry, skill  or  temperance.  He  no  more  produced 
it  than  did  those  lucky  relations  in  England  who 
may  now  do  nothing  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  He 
became  rich  by  getting  hold  of  a  piece  of  land  in 
the  early  days,  which,  as  San  Francisco  giew,  be- 
came very  valuable.  His  wealth  represented  not 
what  he  had  earned,  but  what  the  monopoly  of  this 
bit  of  the  earth's  surface  enabled  him  to  appropriate 
of  the  earnings  of  others. 

A  man  died  in  Pittsburgh,  the  other  day,  leaving 
$3,000,000.  He  may  or  may  not  have  been  par- 
ticularly industrious,  skillful  and  economical,  but  it 
was  not  by  virtue  of  these  qualities  that  he  got  so 
rich.  It  was  because  he  went  to  Washington  and 
helped  lobby  through  a  bill  which,  by  way  of  "pro- 
tecting American  workmen  against  the  pauper  labor 
of  Europe,"  gave  him  the  advantage  of  a  sixty  per 
cent  tariff.  To  the  day  of  his  death  he  was  a  stanch 
protectionist,  and  said  free  trade  would  ruin  our 
"infant  industries."  Evidently  the  $3,000,000  which 
he  was  enabled  to  lay  by  from  his  own  little  cherub 
of  an  "infant  industry"  did  not  represent  what  he 


THE  WRONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         79 

had  added  to  production.  It  was  the  advantage 
given  him  by  the  tariff  that  enabled  him  to  scoop  it 
up  from  other  people's  earnings. 

This  element  of  monopoly,  of  appropriation  and 
spoliation  will,  when  we  come  to  analyze  them,  be 
found  to  largely  account  for  all  great  fortunes. 

There  are  two  classes  of  men  who  are  always 
talking  as  though  great  fortunes  resulted  from  the 
power  of  increase  belonging  to  capital — those  who 
declare  that  present  social  adjustments  are  all  right ; 
and  those  who  denounce  capital  and  insist  that  inter- 
est should  be  abolished.  The  typical  rich  man  of 
the  one  set  is  he  who,  saving  his  earnings,  devotes 
the  surplus  to  aiding  production,  and  becomes  rich 
by  the  natural  growth  of  his  capital.  The  other  set 
make  calculations  of  the  enormous  sum  a  dollar  put 
out  at  six  per  cent  compound  interest  will  amount  to 
in  a  hundred  years,  and  say  we  must  abolish  interest 
if  we  would  prevent  the  growth  of  great  fortunes. 

But  I  think  it  difficult  to  instance  any  great  fortune 
really  due  to  the  legitimate  growth  of  capital  ob- 
tained by  industry. 

The  great  fortune  of  the  Rothschilds  springs  from 
the  treasure  secured  by  the  Landgrave  uf  Hesse- 
Cassel  by  selling  his  people  to  England  to  fight 
against  our  forefathers  in  their  struggle  for  indepen- 
dence. It  began  in  the  blood-money  received  by 
this  petty  tyrant  from  greater  tyrants  as  the  price  of 
the  lives  of  his  subjects.      It  has  grown  to  its  pres- 


80  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

ent  enormous  dimensions  by  the  jobbing  of  loans 
raised  by  European  kings  for  holding  in  subjection 
the  people  and  waging  destructive  wars  upon  each 
other.  It  no  more  represents  the  earnings  of  in- 
dustry or  of  capital  than  do  the  sums  now  being 
wrung  by  England  from  the  poverty-stricken  fellahs 
of  Egypt  to  pay  for  the  enormous  profits  on  loans 
to  the  Khedive,  which  he  wasted  on  palaces,  yachts, 
harems,  ballet-dancers,  and  cart-loads  of  diamonds, 
such  as  he  gave  to  the  Sliermans. 

The  great  fortune  of  the  Duke  of  Westminster, 
the  richest  of  the  rich  men  of  England,  is  purely  the 
result  of  appropriation.  It  no  more  springs  from 
the  earnings  of  the  present  Duke  of  Westminster  or 
any  of  his  ancestors  than  did  the  great  fortunes 
bestowed  by  Russian  monarchs  on  their  favorites 
when  they  gave  them  thousands  of  the  Russian 
people  as  their  serfs.  An  English  king,  long  since 
dead,  gave  to  an  ancestor  of  the  present  Duke  of 
Westminster  a  piece  of  land  over  which  the  city  of 
London  has  now  extended — that  is  to  say,  he  gave 
him  the  privilege,  still  recognized  by  the  stupid 
English  people,  which  enables  the  present  duke  to 
appropriate  so  much  of  the  earnings  of  so  many 
thousands  of  the  present  generation  of  Englishmen. 

So,  too,  the  great  fortunes  of  the  English  brewers 
and  distillers  have  been  largely  built  up  by  the 
operation  of  the  excise  in  fostering  monopoly  and 
concentrating  the  business. 


THE  WKONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         81 

Or,  turning  again  to  the  United  States,  take  the 
great  fortune  of  the  Astors.  It  represents  for  the 
most  part  a  similar  appropriation  of  the  earnings  of 
others,  as  does  the  income  of  the  Duke  of  AVest- 
minster  and  other  English  landlords.  The  first  As- 
tor  made  an  arrangement  with  certain  people  living 
in  his  time  by  virtue  of  which  his  children  are  now 
allowed  to  tax  other  people's  children — to  demand 
a  very  large  part  of  their  earnings  from  many  thou- 
sands of  the  present  population  of  ~New  York.  Its 
main  element  is  not  production  or  saving.  'No  hu- 
man being  can  produce  land  or  lay  up  land.  If  the 
Astors  had  all  remained  in  Germany,  or  if  there 
had  never  been  any  Astors,  the  land  of  Manhattan 
Island  would  have  been  here  all  the  same. 

Take  the  great  Vanderbilt  fortune.  The  first 
Yanderbilt  was  a  boatman  who  earned  money  by 
hard  work  and  saved  it.  But  it  was  not  working 
and  saving  that  enabled  him  to  leave  such  an  enor- 
mous fortune.  It  was  spoliation  and  monopoly. 
As  soon  as  he  got  money  enough  he  used  it  as  a 
club  to  extort  from  others  their  earnings.  He  ran 
off  opposition  lines  and  monopolized  routes  of  steam- 
boat travel.  Then  he  went  into  railroads,  pursuing 
the  same  tactics.  The  Yanderbilt  fortune  no  more 
comes  from  working  and  saving  than  did  the  for- 
tune that  Captain  Kydd  buried. 

Or  take  the  great  Gould  fortune.  Mr.  Gould  might 
have  got  his  first  little  start  by  superior  industry 


82  SOCIAL   PKOBLEMS. 

and  superior  self-denial.  But  it  is  not  that  which 
lias  made  him  the  master  of  a  hundred  millions.  It 
was  by  wrecking  railroads,  buying  judges,  corrupt- 
ing legislatures,  getting  up  rings  and  pools  and 
combinations  to  raise  or  depress  stock  values  and 
transportation  rates. 

So,  likewise,  of  the  great  fortunes  which  the  Pa- 
cific railroads  have  created.  They  have  been  made 
by  lobbying  through  profligate  donations  of  lands, 
bonds  and  subsidies,  by  the  operations  of  Credit 
Mobilier  and  Contract  and  Finance  Companies,  by 
monopolizing  and  gouging.  And  so  of  fortunes 
made  by  such  combinations  as  the  Standard  Oil 
Company,  the  Bessemer  Steel  Ring,  the  Whisky 
Tax  Ring,  the  Lucifer  Match  Ring,  and  the  various 
rings  for  the  "protection  of  the  American  workman 
from  the  pauper  labor  of  Europe." 

Or  take  the  fortunes  made  out  of  successful  patents. 
Like  that  element  in  so  many  fortunes  that  comes 
from  the  increased  value  of  land,  these  result  from 
monopoly,  pure  and  simple.  And  though  I  am  not 
now  discussing  the  expediency  of  patent  laws,  it 
may  be  observed,  in  passing,  that  in  the  vast  ma- 
jority of  cases  the  men  who  make  fortunes  out  of 
patents  are  not  the  men  who  make  the  inventions. 

Through  all  great  fortunes,  and,  in  fact,  through 
nearly  all  acquisitions  that  in  these  days  can  fairly 
be  termed  fortunes,  these  elements  of  monopoly,  of 
spoliation,  of  gambling  run.     The  head  of  one  of 


THE  WRONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         83 

the  largest  manufacturing  firms  in  the  United  States 
said  to  me  recently,  "  It  is  not  on  our  ordinary  busi- 
ness that  we  make  our  money ;  it  is  where  we  can 
get  a  monopoly."  And  this,  I  think,  is  generally 
true. 

Consiaer  the  important  part  in  building  up  for- 
tunes which  the  increase  of  land  values  has  had, 
and  is  having,  in  the  United  States.  This  is,  of 
course,  monopoly,  pure  and  simple.  When  land 
increases  in  value  it  does  not  mean  that  its  owner 
has  added  to  the  general  wealth.  The  owner  may 
never  have  seen  the  land  or  done  aught  to  improve 
it.  He  may,  and  often  does,  live  in  a  distant  city 
or  in  another  country.  Increase  of  land  values 
simply  means  that  the  owners,  by  virtue  of  their 
appropriation  of  something  that  existed  before  man 
was,  have  the  power  of  taking  a  larger  share  of  the 
wealth  produced  by  other  people's  labor.  Consider 
how  much  the  monopolies  created  and  the  advan- 
tages given  to  the  unscrupulous  by  the  tariff  and 
by  our  system  of  internal  taxation  —  how  much  the 
railroad  (a  business  in  its  nature  a  monopoly),  tele- 
graph, gas,  water  and  other  similar  monopolies, 
have  done  to  concentrate  wealth  ;  how  special  rates, 
pools,  combinations,  corners,  stock-watering  and 
stock-gambling,  the  destructivD  use  of  wealth  in 
driving  ofi"  or  buying  oft  opposition  which  the  pub- 
lic must  finally  pay  for,  and  many  other  things 
which  these  will  suggest,  have  operated  to  build  up 


84  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

large  fortunes,  and  it  will  at  least  appear  that  the 
unequal  distribution  of  wealth  is  due  in  great  meas- 
ure to  sheer  spoliation ;  that  the  reason  why  those 
who  work  hard  get  so  little,  while  so  many  who 
work  little  get  so  much,  is,  in  very  large  measure, 
that  the  earnings  of  the  one  class  are,  in  one  way  or 
another,  filclied  away  from  them  to  swell  the  in- 
comes of  the  other. 

That  individuals  are  constantly  making  their  way 
from  the  ranks  of  those  who  get  less  than  their 
earnings  to  the  ranks  of  those  who  get  more  than 
their  earnings,  no  more  proves  this  state  of  things 
right  than  the  fact  that  merchant  sailors  were  con- 
stantly becoming  pirates  and  participating  in  the 
profits  of  piracy,  would  prove  that  piracy  was  right 
and  that  no  effort  should  be  made  to  suppress  it. 

I  am  not  denouncing  the  rich,  nor  seeking,  by 
speaking  of  these  things,  to  excite  envy  and  hatred; 
but  if  we  would  get  a  clear  understanding  of  social 
problems,  we  must  recognize  the  fact  that  it  is  to 
monopolies  which  we  permit  and  create,  to  advant- 
ages which  we  give  one  man  over  another,  to 
methods  of  extortion  sanctioned  by  law  and  by 
public  opinion,  that  some  men  are  enabled  to  get 
so  enormously  rich  while  others  remain  so  miserably 
poor.  If  we  look  around  us  and  note  the  elements 
of  monopoly,  extortion  and  spoliation  which  go  to 
the  building  up  of  all,  or  nearly  all,  fortunes,  we 
see  on  the  one  hand  how  disingenuous  are  those 


THE  WRONG  IN  EXISTING  SOCIAL  CONDITIONS.         85 

who  preach  to  us  that  there  is  notliing  wrong  in 
social  relations  and  that  the  inequalities  in  the  dis- 
tribution of  wealth  spring  from  the  inequalities  of 
human  nature  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  we  see  how 
wild  are  those  who  talk  as  though  capital  were  a 
public  enemy,  and  propose  plans  for  arbitrarily  re- 
stricting the  acquisition  of  wealth.  Capital  is  a 
good  ;  the  capitalist  is  a  helper,  if  he  is  not  also  a 
monopolist.  We  can  safely  let  any  one  get  as  rich 
as  he  can  if  he  will  not  despoil  others  in  doing  so. 
There  are  deep  wrongs  in  the  present  constitution 
of  society,  but  they  are  not  wrongs  inherent  in  the 
constitution  of  man  nor  in  those  social  laws  which 
are  as  truly  the  laws  of  the  Creator  as  are  the '  laws 
of  the  physical  universe.  They  are  wrongs  result- 
ing from  bad  adjustments  which  it  is  within  our 
power  to  amend.  The  ideal  social  state  is  not  that 
in  which  each  gets  an  equal  amount  of  wealth,  but 
in  which  each  gets  in  proportion  to  his  contribution 
to  the  general  stock.  And  in  such  a  social  state 
there  would  not  be  less  incentive  to  exertion  than 
now;  there  would  be  far  more  incentive.  Men  will  be 
more  industrious  and  more  moral,  better  workmen  and 
better  citizens,  if  each  takes  his  earnings  and  carries 
them  home  to  his  family,  than  where  they  put 
their  earnings  in  a  pot  and  gamble  for  them  until 
some  have  far  more  than  they  could  have  earned, 
and  others  have  little  or  nothing. 


CHAPTEE  YII. 

IS    IT   THE    BEST   OF    ALL   POSSIBLE    WORLDS? 

There  are  worlds  and  worlds — even  within  the 
bounds  of  the  same  horizon.  The  man  who  comes 
into  ISTew  York  with  plenty  of  money,  who  puts  up 
at  the  Windsor  or  Brunswick,  and  is  received  by 
hospitable  hosts  in  Fifth  Avenue  mansions,  sees 
one  New  York.  The  man  who  comes  with  a  dollar 
and  a  half,  and  goes  to  a  twenty-five-cent  lodging- 
house  sees  another.  There  are  also  fifteen-cent 
lodging-houses,  and  people  too  poor  to  go  even  to 
them. 

Into  the  pleasant  avenues  of  the  Park,  in  the 
bright  May  sunshine,  dashes  the  railroad-wrecker's 
daughter,  her  tasty  riding-habit  floating  free  from 
the  side  of  her  glistening  bay,  and  her  belted  groom, 
in  fresh  top-boots  and  smart  new  livery,  clattering 
after,  at  a  respectful  distance,  on  another  blooded 
horse,  that  chafes  at  the  bit.  The  stock-gambler's 
son,  rising  from  his  trotter  at  every  stride,  in  Eng- 
lish fashion,  his  English  riding-stick  grasped  by  the 
middle,  raises  his  hat  to  her  nod.  And  as  he  whirls 
past  in  his  London-made  dogcart,  a  liveried  servant 
sitting  with  folded  arms  behind  him,  she  exchanges 
salutations .  witli  the  high-born  descendant  of  the 

86 


is  IT  THE  BEST  OF  ALL  POSSIBLE  WORLDS  t  8Y 

Dutch  gardener,  whose  cabbage-patch,  now  covered 
with  brick  and  mortar,  has  become  an  ' '  estate " 
of  lordly  income.  While  in  the  soft,  warm  air 
rings  a  musical  note,  and  drawn  by  mettled  steeds, 
the  four-in-hands  of  the  coaching-club  rusli  by,  with 
liveried  guards  and  coach-tops  filled  with  chattering 
people,  to  whom  life,  with  its  round  of  balls,  parties, 
theaters,  flirtations  and  excursions,  is  a  holiday,  in 
which,  but  for  the  invention  of  new  pleasures, 
satiety  would  make  time  drag. 

How  different  this  bright  world  from  that  of  the 
old  woman  who,  in  the  dingy  lower  street,  sits  from 
morning  to  night  beside  her  little  stock  of  apples 
and  candy  ;  from  that  of  the  girls  who  stand  all  day 
behind  counters  and  before  looms,  who  bend  over 
sewing-machines  for  weary,  weary  hours,  or  who 
come  out  at  night  to  prowl  the  streets  ! 

One  railroad  king  puts  the  great  provinces  of  his 
realm  in  charge  of  satraps  and  goes  to  Europe  ;  the 
new  steel  yacht  of  another  is  being  fitted,  regardless 
of  expense,  for  a  voyage  around  the  world,  if  it 
pleases  him  to  take  it;  a  third  will  not  go  abroad — he 
is  too  busy  buying  in  his  "little  old  railroad"  every 
day.  Other  human  beings  are  gathered  into  line 
every  Sunday  afternoon  by  the  Kev.  Cotfee-and- 
rolls-man,  and  listen  to  his  preaching  for  the  dole 
they  are  to  get.  And  upon  the  benches  in  the 
squaress  it  men  from  whose  sullen,  deadened  faces 
the  fire  of  energy  and  the  light  of  hope  have  gone — 


SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 


''tramps  "  and  "bums,"  the  broken,  rotted,  human 
driftwood,  the  pariahs  of  our  society. 

I  stroll  along  Broadway  in  the  evening,  and  by  the 
magnificent  saloon  of  the  man  who  killed  Jim  Fisk, 
I  meet  a  good  fellow  whom  I  knew  years  ago  in 
California,  when  he  could  not  jingle  more  than  one 
dollar  on  another.  It  is  diiferent  now,  and  he  takes 
a  wad  of  bills  from  his  pocket  to  pay  for  the  thirty- 
five-cent  cigars  we  light.  He  has  rooms  in  the 
most  costly  of  Broadway  hotels,  his  clothes  are  cut 
by  Blissert,  and  he  thinks  Delmonico's  about  the 
only  place  to  get  a  decent  meal.  He  tells  me  about 
some  "big  things  ''  he  has  got  into,  and  talks  about 
millions  as  though  they  were  marbles.  If  a  man 
has  any  speed  in  him  at  all,  he  says,  it  is  just  as 
easy  to  deal  in  big  things  as  in  little  things,  and 
the  men  who  play  such  large  hands  in  the  great  game 
are  no  smarter  than  other  men  when  you  get  along- 
side of  them  and  take  their  measure.  As  to  23olitics, 
he  says,  it  is  only  a  question  who  hold  the  ofHces. 
The  corporations  rule  the  country,  and  are  going  to 
rule  it,  and  the  man  is  a  fool  who  don't  get  on  their 
side.  As  for  the  people,  what  do  they  know  or  care  I 
The  press  rules  the  people,  and  capital  rules  the  press. 
Better  hunt  with  the  dogs  than  be  hunted  with  the 
hare. 

We  part,  and  as  I  turn  down  the  street  another 
acquaintance  greets  me,  and,  as  his  conversation 
grows  interesting,  I  go  out  of  my  way,  for  to  delay 


IS  IT  THE  BEST  OF  ALL  POSSIBLE  WORLDS?  89 

him  were  sin,  as  lie  must  be  at  work  bj  two  in  the 
morning.  He  has  been  trying  to  read  "Progress 
and  Poverty,"  he  says  :  but  he  has  to  take  it  in  such 
little  snatches,  and  the  children  make  such  a  noise 
in  his  two  small  rooms — for  his  wife  is  afraid  to  let 
them  out  on  the  street  to  learn  so  much  bad — that 
it  is  hard  work  to  understand  some  parts  of  it.  He 
is  a  journeyman  baker,  but  he  has  a  good  situation 
as  journe^^man  bakers  go.  He  works  in  a  restau- 
rant, and  only  twelve  hours  a  day.  Most  bakers, 
he  tells  me,  have  to  work  fourteen  and  sixteen  hours. 
Some  of  the  places  they  work  in  would  sicken  a  man 
not  used  to  it,  and  even  those  used  to  it  are  forced 
to  lay  off  every  now  and  again,  and  to  drink,  or 
they  could  not  stand  it.  In  some  bakeries  they  use 
good  stock,  he  says,  but  they  have  to  charge  high 
prices,  which  only  the  richer  people  will  pay.  In 
most  of  them  you  often  have  to  sift  the  maggots  out 
of  the  flour,  and  the  butter  is  always  rancid.  He 
belongs  to  a  Union,  and  they  are  trying  to  get  in  all 
the  journeyman  bakers  ;  but  those  that  work  longest, 
and  have  most  need  of  it,  are  the  hardest  to  get. 
Their  long  hours  make  them  stupid,  and  take  all  the 
spirit  out  of  them.  He  has  tried  to  get  into  busi- 
ness for  himself,  and  he  and  his  wife  once  pinched 
and  saved  till  they  got  a  few  hundred  dollars,  and 
then  set  up  a  little  shop.  But  he  had  not  money 
enough  to  buy  a  share  in  the  Flour  Association — a 
co-operative  association  of  boss  bakers,   by  which 


90  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

the  members  get  stock  at  lowest  rates — and  he  could 
not  compete,  lost  his  money,  and  had  to  go  to  work 
again  as  a  journeyman.  He  can  see  no  chance  at 
all  of  getting  out  of  it,  he  says  ;  he  sometimes  thinks 
he  might  as  well  be  a  slave.  His  family  grows 
larger  and  it  costs  more  to  keep  them.  His  rent 
was  raised  two  dollars  on  the  1st  of  May.  His  wife 
remonstrated  with  the  agent,  said  they  were  making 
no  more,  and  it  cost  them  more  to  live.  The  agent 
said  he  could  not  help  that ;  the  property  had  in- 
creased in  value,  and  the  rents  must  be  raised. 
The  reason  people  complained  of  rents  was  that  they 
lived  too  extravagantly,  and  thought  they  must 
have  everything  anybody  else  had.  People  could 
live,  and  keep  strong  and  fat,  on  nothing  but  oat- 
meal. If  they  would  do  that  they  would  find  it 
easy  enough  to  pay  their  rent. 

There  is  such  a  rush  across  the  Atlantic  that  it  is 
difficult  to  engage  a  passage  for  months  ahead. 
The  doors  of  the  fine,  roomy  houses  in  the  fashion- 
able streets  will  soon  be  boarded  up,  as  their  owners 
leave  for  Europe,  for  the  seashore,  or  the  mountains. 
"  Everybody  is  out  of  town,"  they  will  say.  Not 
quite  everybody,  though.  Some  twelve  or  thirteen 
hundred  thousand  people,  without  counting  Brooklyn, 
will  be  left  to  swelter  through  the  hot  summer. 
The  swarming  tenement-houses  will  not  be  board- 
ed up  ;  evpry  window  and  door  will  be  open  to  catch 
the  least  breath  of  air.     The  dirtv  streets  will  be 


IS  IT  THE  BEST  OF  ALL  POSSIBLE  WORLDS?  91 

crawling  with  squalid  life,  and  noisy  with  the  play 
of  unkempt  children,  who  never  saw  a  green  field 
or  watched  the  curl  of  a  breaker,  save  perhaps,  when 
charity  gave  them  a  treat.  Dragged  women  will  be 
striving  to  quiet  pining  babies,  sobbing  and  wailing 
away  their  little  lives  for  the  want  of  wholesome 
nourishment  and  fresh  air ;  and  degradation  and 
misery  that  hides  during  the  winter  will  be  seen  on 
every  hand. 

In  such  a  city  as  this,  the  world  of  some  is  as 
different  from  the  world  in  which  others  live  as 
Jupiter  may  be  from  Mars.  There  are  worlds  we 
shut  our  eyes  to,  and  do  not  bear  to  think  of,  still 
less  to  look  at,  but  in  which  human  beings  yet  live 
— worlds  in  which  vice  takes  the  place  of  virtue, 
and  from  which  hope  here  and  hope  hereafter  seem 
utterly  banished — brutal,  discordant,  torturing  hells 
of  wickedness  and  suffering. 

"  Why  do  they  cry  for  bread  ?  "  asked  the  innocent 
French  princess,  as  the  roar  of  the  fierce,  hungry 
mob  resounded  through  the  courtyard  of  Yersailles. 
"If  they  have  no  bread,  why  don't tliey  eat  cake?" 

Yet,  not  a  fool  above  other  fools  was  the  pretty 
princess,  who  never  in  her  whole  life  had  known 
that  cake  w^s  not  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  "  Why 
are  not  the  poor  thrifty  and  virtuous  and  wise  and 
temperate  ? "  one  hears  whenever  in  luxurious  par- 
lors such  subjects  are  mentioned.  What  is  this  but 
the  question  of  the  French  princess.      Thrift  and 


92  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

virtue  and  wisdom  and  temperance  are  not  the 
fruits  of  poverty. 

But  it  is  not  this  of  which  I  intended  here  to  speak 
so  much  as  of  that  complacent  assumption  which 
runs  through  current  thought  and  speech,  that  this 
world  in  which  we,  nineteenth  century ^  Christian, 
American  men  and  women  live,  is,  in  its  social 
adjustments,  at  least,  about  such  a  world  as  the 
Almighty  intended  it  to  be. 

Some  say  this  in  terms,  others  say  it  by  implica- 
tion, but  in  one  form  or  another  it  is  constantly 
taught.  Even  the  wonders  of  modern  invention 
have,  with  a  most  influential  part  of  society,  scarcely 
shaken  the  belief  that  social  improvement  is  im- 
possible. Men  of  the  sort  who,  a  little  while  ago, 
derided  the  idea  that  steam-carriages  might  be 
driven  over  the  land  and  steam-vessels  across  the 
sea,  would  not  now  refuse  to  believe  in  the  most 
startling  mechanical  invention.  But  he  who  thinks 
society  may  be  improved,  he  who  thinks  that  pov- 
erty and  greed  may  be  driven  from  the  world,  is 
still  looked  upon  in  circles  that  pride  themselves  on 
their  culture  and  rationalism  as  a  dreamer,  if  not  as 
a  dangerous  lunatic. 

The  old  idea  that  everything  in  the  social  world 
is  ordered  by  the  Divine  Will — that  it  is  the  mys- 
terious dispensations  of  Providence  that  give  wealth 
to  the  few  and  order  poverty  as  the  lot  of  the  many, 
make  some  rulers  and  the  others  serfs  —  is  losing 


IS  IT  THE  BEST  OF  ALL  POSSIBLE  WORLDS?  93 

power ;  but  another  idea  that  serves  the  same  pur- 
pose is  taking  its  place,  and  we  are  told,  in  the 
name  of  science,  that  the  only  social  improvement 
that  is  possible  is  by  a  slow  race  evolution,  of  which 
the  fierce  struggle  for  existence  is  the  impelling 
force  ;  that,  as  I  have  recently  read  in  "a  journal  ot 
civilization'-  from  the  pen  of  a  man  who  has  turned 
from  the  preaching  of  what  he  called  Christianity  to 
the  teaching  of  what  he  calls  political  economy, 
that  "only  the  elite  of  the  races  has  been  raised  to 
the  point  where  reason  and  conscience  can  even 
curb  the  lower  motive  forces,"  and  "that  for  all  but 
a  few  of  us  the  limit  of  attainment  in  life,  in  the 
best  case,  is  to  live  out  our  term,  to  pay  our  debts, 
to  place  three  or  four  children  in  a  position  as  good 
as  the  father's  was,  and  there  make  the  account 
balance."  As  for  "friends  of  humanity,"  and  those 
who  would  "help  the  poor,"  they  get  from  him  the 
same  scorn  which  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  eigh- 
teen hundred  years  ago  visited  on  a  pestilent  social 
reformer  whom  they  finally  crucified. 

Lying  beneath  all  such  theories  is  the  selfishness 
that  would  resist  any  inquiry  into  the  titles  to  the 
wealth  w^liich  greed  has  gathered,  and  the  difficulty 
and  indisposition  on  the  part  of  the  comfortable 
classes  of  realizing  the  existence  of  any  other  world 
than  that  seen  through  their  own  eyes. 

"That  one-half  of  the  world  does  not  know  how 
the  other  half  live,"  is  much  more  true  of  the  upper 


94  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

than  of  the  lower  half.  We  look  upon  that  which 
is  pleasant  rather  than  that  which  is  disagreeable. 
The  shop-girl  delights  in  the  loves  of  the  Lord  de 
Maltravers  and  the  Lady  Blanche,  just  as  children 
without  a  penny  will  gaze  in  confectioners'  windows, 
as  hungry  men  dream  of  feasts,  and  poor  men  relish 
tales  of  sudden  wealth.  And  social  suifering  is 
for  the  most  part  mute.  The  well-dressed  take  the 
main  street,  but  the  ragged  slink  into  the  by-ways. 
The  man  in  a  good  coat  will  be  listened  to  where 
the  same  man  in  tatters  would  be  hustled  oiF.  It 
is  that  part  of  society  that  has  the  best  reason  to  be 
satisfied  with  things  as  they  are  that  is  heard  in  the 
press,  in  the  church,  and  in  the  school,  and  that 
forms  the  conventional  opinion  that  this  world  in 
which  we  American  Christians,  in  the  latter  half  ot 
the  nineteenth  century,  live  is  about  as  good  a 
world  as  the  Creator  (if  there  is  a  Creator)  intended 
it  should  be. 

But  look  around.  All  over  the  world  the  beauty 
and  the  glory  and  the  grace  of  civilization  rests 
on  human  lives  crushed  into  misery  and  distor- 
tion. 

I  w^ill  not  speak  of  Germany,  of  France,  of  Eng- 
land. Look  even  here,  where  European  civilization 
flowers  in  tlie  free  field  of  a  new  continent ;  where 
there  are  no  kings,  no  great  standing  armies,  no 
relics  of  feudal  servitude ;  where  national  existence 
began  with  the  solemn  declaration  of  the  equal  and 


95 


inalienable  rights  of  men.  I  clip,  almost  at  ran- 
dom, from  a  daily  paper,  for  I  am  not  seeking  the 
blackest  shadows  : 

"Margaret  Hickey,  aged  30  years,  came  to  this  city  a  few- 
days  ago  from  Boston  with  a  seven-week-old  baby.  She 
tried  to  get  work,  but  was  not  successfuL  Saturday  night 
she  placed  the  child  in  a  cellar  at  No.  226  West  Forty -second 
street.  At  midnight  she  called  at  Police  Headquarters  and 
said  she  had  lost  her  baby  in  Forty-third  street.  In  the 
meantime  an  officer  found  the  child.  The  mother  was  held 
until  yesterday  morning,  when  she  was  taken  to  the  York- 
ville  Court  and  sent  to  the  Island  for  six  months." 

Morning  and  evening,  day  after  day,  in  these 
times  of  peace  and  prosperity,  one  may  read  in 
our  daily  papers  such  items  as  this,  and  worse  than 
this.  We  are  so  used  to  them  that  they  excite  no 
attention  and  no  comment.  We  know  what  the  fate 
of  Margaret  Hickey,  aged  thirty  years,  and  of  her 
baby,  aged  seven  weeks,  sent  to  the  Island  for  six 
months,  will  be.  Better  for  them  and  better  for 
society  were  they  drowned  outright,  as  we  would 
drown  a  useless  cat  and  mangy  kitten ;  but  so  com- 
mon are  such  items  that  we  glance  at  them  as  we 
glance  at  the  number  of  birds  wounded  at  a  pigeon- 
match,  and  turn  to  read  "what  is  going  on  in  soci- 
ety ;"  of  the  last  new  opera  or  play ;  of  the  cottages 
taken  for  the  season  at  Newport  or  Long  Branch  ; 
of  the  millionaire's  divorce  or  the  latest  great  defal- 
cation ;  how  Ileber  Newton  is  to  be  fired  out  of  the 
Episcopal  church  for  declaring  the  Song  of  Solomon 


96  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 


a  love-drama,  and  the  story  of  Jonah  and  the  whale 
a  poetical  embellishment ;  or  how  the  great  issue 
which  the  American  people  are  to  convulse  them- 
selves about  next  year  is  the  turning  of  the  Repub- 
lican party  out  of  power. 

I  read  the  other  day  in  a  Brooklyn  paper  of  a 
coroner's  jury  summoned  to  inquire,  as  the  law 
directs,  into  the  cause  of  death  of  a  two  days' 
infant.  The  unwholesome  room  was  destitute  of 
everything  save  a  broken  chair,  a  miserable  bed  and 
an  empty  whisky-bottle.  On  the  bed  lay,  uncared 
for,  a  young  girl,  mother  of  the  dead  infant ;  over 
the  chair,  in  drunken  stupor,  sprawled  a  man  — 
her  father.  "The  horror-stricken  jury,"  said  the 
report,  "  rendered  a  verdict  in  accordance  with  the 
facts,  and  left  the  place  as  fast  as  they  could."  So 
do  we  turn  from  these  horrors.  Are  there  not 
policemen  and  station-houses,  almshouses  and  char- 
itable societies  ? 

Nevertheless,  we  send  missionaries  to  the  heath- 
en ;  and  I  read  the  other  day  how  the  missionaries, 
sent  to  preach  to  the  Hindoos  the  Baptist  version 
of  Christ's  Gospel,  had  been  financed  out  of  the 
difference  between  American  currency  and  Indian 
rupees  by  the  godly  men  who  stay  at  home  and 
boss  the  job.  Yet,  from  Arctic  to  Antarctic  Circle, 
where  are  the  heathen  among  whom  such  degrad- 
ed and  distorted  human  beings  are  to  be  found  as 
in   our  centers  of  so-called  Christian   civilization, 


IS  IT  THE  BEST  OF  ALL  POSSIBLE  WORLDS?  97 

where  we  have  such  a  respect  for  the  all-seeing  eye 
of  God  that  if  yon  want  a  drink  on  Sunday  you 
must  go  into  the  saloon  by  the  back  door?  Among 
what  tribe  of  savages,  who  never  saw  a  missionary, 
can  the  cold-blooded  horrors  testified  to  in  the 
Tewksbury  Almshouse  investigation  be  matched? 
' '  Babies  don't  generally  live  long  here, "  they  told  tlie 
farmer's  wife  who  brought  them  a  little  waif  And 
neither  did  they  —  seventy-three  out  of  seventy-four 
dying  in  a  few  weeks,  their  little  bodies  sold  off  at  a 
round  rate  per  dozen  to  the  dissecting  table,  and  a 
six-months'  infant  left  there  two  days  losing  three 
pounds  in  weight.  JN^or  did  adults — the  broken  men 
and  women  who  there  sought  shelter  —  fare  better. 
They  were  robbed,  starved,  beaten,  turned  into 
marketable  corpses  as  fast  as  possible,  wliile  the 
highly  respectable  managers  waxed  fat  and  rich, 
and  set  before  legislative  committees  the  best  of 
dinners  and  the  choicest  of  wines.  It  were  slan- 
der to  dumb  brutes  to  speak  of  the  bestial  cruelty 
disclosed  by  the  opening  of  this  wliited  sepulchre. 
Yet,  not  only  do  the  representatives  of  the  wealth 
and  culture  and  "high  moral  ideas"  of  Massachu- 
setts receive  coldly  these  revelations,  they  fight 
bitterly  the  man  who  has  made  them,  as  though 
the  dragging  of  such  horrors  to  light,  not  the  doing 
of  them,  were  the  unpardonable  sin.  They  were 
only  paupers  !  And  I  read  in  the  journal  founded 
by  Horace  Greeley,  that  ."the  woes  of  the  Tewks- 


98  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

burv  paupers  are  no  worse  than  the  common  lot  of 
all  inmates  of  pauper  refuges  the  countrj^  over." 

Or  take  the  revelations  made  this  winter  before  a 
legislative  committee  of  the  barbarities  practiced  in 
Kew  York  state  prisons.  The  system  remains  un- 
altered ;  not  an  official  has  been  even  dismissed. 
The  belief  that  dominates  our  society  is  evidently  that 
which  I  find  expressed  in  "  a  journal  of  civilization  " 
by  a  reverend  professor  at  Yale,  that  "the  criminal 
has  no  claims  against  society  at  all.  What  shall  be 
done  with  him  is  a. question  of  expediency!"  I 
wonder  if  our  missionaries  to  the  heathen  ever 
read  the  American  papers?  I  am  certain  they 
don't  read  them  to  the  heathen. 

Behind  all  this  is  social  disease.  Criminals, 
paupers,  prostitutes,  women  who  abandon  their 
children,  men  who  kill  themselves  in  despair  of 
making  a  living,  the  existence  of  great  armies 
of  beggars  and  thieves,  prove  that  there  are  large 
classes  who  find  it  difficult  with  the  hardest  toil 
to  make  an  honest  and  sufficient  livelihood.  So  it 
is.  "There  is,"  incidentally  said  to  me^  recently, 
a  New  York  Supreme  Judge,  "a  large  class  —  I  was 
about  to  say  a  majority  —  of  the  population  of  New 
York  and  Brooklyn,  who  just  live,  and  to  whom  the 
rearing  of  two  more  children  means  inevitably  a 
boy  for  the  penitentiary  and  a  girl  for  the  brothel." 
A  partial  report  of  charitable  work  in  New  York 
city,  not  embracing  the  operations  of  a  number  of 


99 


important  societies,  shows  36,000  families  obtaining 
relief,  while  it  is  estimated  that  were  the  houses  in 
New  York  city  containing  criminals  and  the 
recipients  of  charity  set  side  by  side  they  would 
make  a  street  twenty-two  miles  long.  One  charita- 
ble society  in  New  York  city  extended  aid  this  winter 
to  the  families  of  three  hundred  tailors.  Their 
wages  are  so  small  when  they  do  work  that  when 
work  gives  out  they  must  beg,  steal  or  starve. 

Nor  is  this  state  of  things  confined  to  the  metropo- 
lis. In  Massachusetts  the  statistician  of  the  Labor 
Bureau  declares  that  among  wage  laborers  the 
earnings  (exclusive  of  the  earnings  of  minors)  are 
less  than  the  cost  of  living  ;  that  in  the  majority  of 
cases  workingmen  do  not  support  their  families  on 
their  individual  earnings  alone,  and  that  fathers  are 
forced  to  depend  upon  their  children  for  from  one- 
quarter  to  one-third  of  the  family  earnings,  children 
under  fifteen  supplying  from  one-eighth  to  one- 
sixth  of  the  total  earnings.  Miss  Emma  E.  Brown 
has  shown  how  parents  are  forced  to  evade  the  law 
prohibiting  the  employment  of  young  children,  and 
in  Pennsylvania,  where  a  similar  law  has  been 
passed,  I  read  how,  forced  by  the  same  necessity, 
the  operatives  of  a  mill  have  resolved  to  boycott  a 
storekeeper  whose  relative  had  informed  that 
children  under  thirteen  were  employed.  While 
in  Canada  last  winter  it  was  shown  that  children 
under  thirteen  were  kept  at  work  in  the  mills  from 


100  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

six  in  tilt'  evening  to  six  in  the  morning,  a  man  on 
duty  with  a  strap  to  keep  them  awake. 

Illinois  is  one  of  the  richest  States  of  the  Union. 
It  is  scarcely  vet  fairly  settled,  for  the  last  census 
show  the  male  population  in  excess  of  the  female, 
and  wages  are  considerably  higher  than  in  more 
eastern  States.  In  their  last  report  the  Illinois 
Commissioners  of  Labor  Statistics  say  that  their 
tables  of  wages  and  cost  of  living  are  representative 
only  of  intelligent  workingmen  who  make  the  most 
of  their  advantages,  and  do  not  reach  ''the  confines 
of  that  world  of  helpless  ignorance  and  destitution 
in  which  multitudes  in  all  large  cities  continually 
live,  and  whose  only  statistics  are  those  of  epi- 
demics, pauperism  and  crime."  Nevertheless,  they 
go  on  to  say,  an  examination  of  these  tables  will 
demonstrate  that  one-half  of  these  intelligent  work- 
ingmen of  Illinois  ''are  not  even  able  to  earn 
enough  for  their  daily  bread,  and  have  to  depend 
upon  the  labor  of  women  and  children  to  eke  out 
their  miserable  existence." 

It  is  the  fool  who  saith  in  his  heart  there  is  no 
God.  But  what  shall  we  call  the  man  who  tells  us 
that  with  this  sort  of  a  world  God  bids  us  be  content? 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

THAT  WE  ALL  MIGHT  BE  RICH. 

The  terms  rich  and  poor  are  of  course  frequently 
used  in  a  relative  sense.  Among  Irish  peasants, 
kept  on  the  verge  of  starvation  by  the  tribute  wi-ung 
from  them  to  maintain  the  luxury  of  absentee  land- 
lords in  London  or  Paris,  "the  woman  of  three 
cows"  will  be  looked  on  as  rich,  while  in  the  society 
of  millionaires  a  man  with  only  $500,000  will  be  re- 
garded as  poor.  Now,  we  cannot,  of  course,  all  be 
rich  in  the  sense  of  having  more  than  others ;  but 
when  people  say,  as  they  so  often  do,  that  we  cannot 
all  be  rich,  or  when  they  say  that  we  must  always 
have  the  poor  with  us,  they  do  not  use  the  words  in 
this  comparative  sense.  They  mean  by  the  rich 
those  who  have  enough,  or  more  than  enough, 
wealth  to  gratify  all  reasonable  wants,  and  by  the 
poor  those  who  have  not. 

Kow,  using  the  words  in  thi^  sense,  I  join  issue 
with  those  who  say  that  we  cannot  all  be  rich  ;  with 
those  who  declare  that  in  human  society  the  poor 
must  always  exist.  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  that 
we  all  might  have  an  array  of  servnats  ;  that  we  all 
might  outshine  each  other  in  dress,  in  equipage,  in 
the  lavishness  of  our  balls  or  dinners,  in  the  mag- 

101 


102  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

nificence  of  our  houses.  That  would  be  a  contra- 
diction in  terms.  What  I  mean  is,  that  we  all 
might  have  leisure,  comfort  and  abundance,  not 
merelj^  of  the  necessaries,  but  even  of  what  are  now 
esteemed  the  elegancies  and  luxuries  of  life.  I  do 
not  mean  to  say  that  absolute  equality  could  be  had, 
or  would  be  desirable.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that 
we  could  all  have,  or  would  want,  the  same  quantity 
of  all  the  different  forms  of  wealth.  But  I  do  mean 
to  say  that  we  might  all  have  enough  wealth  to  sat- 
isfy reasonable  desires  ;  that  we  might  all  have  so 
much  of  the  material  things  we  now  struggle  for, 
that  no  one  would  want  to  rob  or  swindle  his  neigh- 
bor ;  that  no  one  would  worry  all  day,  or  lie  awake 
at  nights,  fearing  he  might  be  brought  to  poverty, 
or  thinking  how  he  might  acquire  wealth. 

Does  this  seem  a  Utopian  dream?  What  would 
people  of  fifty  years  ago  have  thought  of  one  who 
would  have  told  them  that  it  was  possible  to  sew  by 
steam-power ;  to  cross  the  Atlantic  in  six  days,  or 
the  continent  in  three  ;  to  have  a  message  sent  from 
London  at  noon  delivered  in  Boston  three  hours  be- 
fore noon ;  to  hear  in  New  York  the  voice  of  a  man 
talking  in  Chicago  ? 

Did  you  ever  see  a  pail  of  swill  given  to  a  pen  of 
hungry  hogs  ?     That  is  human  society  as  it  is. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  company  of  well-bred  men  and 
women  sitting  down  to  a  good  dinner,  without  scram- 
bling, or  jostling,  or  gluttony,  each,  knowing  that 


THAT    WE    ALL   MIGHT    BE    RICH.  103 

his  own  appetite  will  be  satisfied,  deferring  to  and 
helping  the  others?  That  is  human  society  as  it 
might  be. 

"Devil  catch  the  liindmost"  is  the  motto  of  our 
so-called  civilized  society  to-day.  We  learn  early 
to  "take  care  of  No.  1,"  lest  No.  1  should  suffer ; 
we  learn  early  to  grasp  from  others  that  we  may  not 
want  ourselves.  The  fear  of  poverty  makes  us  ad- 
mire great  wealth ;  and  so  habits  of  greed  are 
formed,  and  we  behold  the  pitiable  spectacle  of 
men  who  have  already  more  than  they  can  by  any 
possibility  use,  toiling,  striving,  grasping  to  add  to 
their  store  up  to  the  very  verge  of  the  grave — that 
grave  which,  whatever  else  it  may  mean,  does  cer- 
tainly mean  the  parting  with  all  earthly  possessions 
however  great  they  be. 

In  vain,  in  gorgeous  churches,  on  the  appointed 
Sunday,  is  the  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus  read. 
What  can  it  mean  in  churches  where  Dives  would 
be  welcomed  and  Lazarus  shown  the  door?  In 
vain  may  the  preacher  preach  of  the  vanity  of 
riches,  while  poverty  engulphs  the  hindermost. 
But  the  mad  struggle  would  cease  when  the  fear  of 
poverty  had  vanished.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  will 
a  truly  Christian  civilization  become  possible. 

And  may  not  this  be  ? 

We  are  so  accustomed  to  poverty  that  even  in  the 
most  advanced  countries  we  regard  it  as  the  natural 
lot  of  the  great  masses  of  the  people  ;  that  we  take 


104  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  even  in  our  highest 
civilization  large  classes  should  want  the  necessaries 
of  healthful  life,  and  the  vast  majority  should  only 
get  a  poor  and  pinched  living  by  the  hardest  toil. 
There  are  professors  of  political  economy  who  teach 
that  this  condition  of  things  is  tlie  result  of  social 
laws  of  which  it  is  idle  to  complain  !  Tliere  are 
ministers  of  religion  who  preach  that  this  is  the 
condition  which  an  all-wise,  all-powerful  Creator 
intended  for  his  children  !  If  an  architect  were  to 
build  a  theatre  so  that  not  more  than  one-tenth  of 
the  audience  could  see  and  hear,  we  would  call  him 
a  bungler  and  a  botch.  If  a  man  were  to  give  a 
feast  and  provide  so  little  food  that  nine- tenths  of 
his  guests  must  go  away  hungry,  we  would  call  him 
a  fool,  or  worse.  Yet  so  accustomed  are  we  to 
poverty,  that  even  the  preachers  of  what  passes  for 
Christianity  tell  us  that  the  great  Architect  of  the 
Universe,  to  whose  infinite  skill  all  nature  testifies, 
has  made  such  a  botch  job  of  this  world  that  the 
vast  majority  of  the  human  creatures  whom  he  has 
called  into  it  are  condemned  by  the  conditions  he 
has  imposed  to  want,  sufifering,  and  brutalizing  toil 
that  gives  no  opportunity  for  the  development  of 
mental  poWers — must  pass  their  lives  in  a  hard 
struggle  to  merely  live  ! 

Yet  who  can  took  about  him  without  seeing  that 
to  whatever  cause  poverty  may  be  due,  it  is  not  due 
to  the  niggardliness  of  nature  ;  without  seeing  that 


THAT    WE    ALL    MIGHT    BE    RICH.  105 

it  is  blindness  or  blasphemy  to  assume  that  the 
Creator  has  condemned  the  masses  of  men  to  hard 
toil  for  a  bare  living  ? 

If  some  men  have  not  enough  to  live  decently, 
do  not  others  have  far  more  than  they  really 
need  ?  If  there  is  not  wealth  sufficient  to  go  around, 
giving  every  one  abundance,  is  it  because  we  have 
reached  the  limit  of  the  production  of  wealth  ?  Is 
our  land  all  in  use  ?  is  our  labor  all  employed  ?  is 
our  capital  all  utilized?  On  the  contrary,  in  what- 
ever direction  we  look  we  see  the  most  stupendous 
waste  of  productive  forces — of  productive  forces  so 
potent  that  were  they  permitted  to  freely  play  the 
production  of  wealth  would  be  so  enormous  that 
there  would  be  more  than  a  sufficiency  for  all.  What 
branch  of  production  is  there  in  which  the  limit 
of  production  has  been  reached?  What  single 
article  of  wealth  is  there  of  which  we  might  not 
produce  enormously  more? 

If  the  mass  of  the  population  of  New  York  are 
jammed  into  the  fever-breeding  rooms  of  tenement- 
houses,  it  is  not  because  there  are  not  vacant  lots 
enough  in  and  around  New  Yoi-k  to  give  each 
family  space  for  a  separate  home.  If  settlers  are  going 
into  Montana  and  Dakota  and  Manitoba,  it  is  not  be- 
cause there  are  not  vast  areas  of  untilled  land  much 
nearer  the  centres  of  population.  If  farmers  are 
paying  one-fourth,  one-third,  or  even  one-half  their 
crops  for  the  privilege  of  getting  land  to  cultivate, 


106  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

it  is  not  because  tliere  is  not,  even  in  our  oldest 
states,  great  quantities  of  land  which  no  one  is 
cultivating. 

So  true  is  it  that  poverty  does  not  come  from  the 
inability  to  produce  more  wealth  that  from  every 
side  we  hear  that  the  power  to  produce  is  in  excess 
of  the  ability  to  find  a  market ;  that  the  constant 
fear  seems  to  be  not  that  too  little,  but  that  too  much, 
will  be  produced  !  Do  we  not  maintain  a  high 
tariff,  and  keep  at  every  port  a  horde  of  Custom 
House  officers,  for  fear  the  people  of  other  countries 
will  overwhelm  us  with  their  goods  ?  Is  not  a  great 
part  of  our  machinery  constantly  idle  ?  Are  there 
not,  even  in  what  we  call  good  times,  an  immense 
number  of  unemployed  men  who  would  gladly  be 
at  work  producing  wealth  if  they  could  only  get  the 
opportunity?  Do  we  not,  even  now,  hear,  from 
every  side,  of  embarrassment  from  the  very  excess 
of  productive  power,  and  of  combinations  to  reduce 
production  ?  Coal  operators  band  together  to  limit 
their  output;  ironworks  have  shut  down,  or  are 
running  on  half  time  ;  distillers  have  agreed  to 
limit  their  production  to  one-half  their  capacity,  and 
sugar  refiners  to  sixty  per  cent ;  paper-mills  are  sus- 
pending for  one,  two  or  three  days  a  week ;  the 
gunny  cloth  manufacturers,  at  a  recent  meeting, 
agreed  to  close  their  mills  until  the  present  over- 
stock on  the  market  is  greatly  reduced  ;  many  other 
manufacturers   have   done   the   same   thing.      The 


THAT   WE    ALL    INriGHT    BE    RICH.  107 

slioeraaking  machinery  of  ]^ew  England  can,  in  six 
months  full  running,  it  is  said,  supply  the  whole 
demand  of  the  United  States  for  twelve  months  ; 
the  machinery  for  making  rubber  goods  can  turn 
out  twice  as  much  as  the  market  will  take. 

This  seeming  glut  of  production,  this  seeming  ex- 
cess of  productive  power,  runs  through  all  branches 
of  industry,  and  is  evident  all  over  the  civilized 
world.  From  blackberries,  bananas  or  apples,  to 
ocean  steamships  or  plate-glass  mirrors,  there  is 
scarcely  an  article  of  liuman  comfort  or  convenience 
that  could  not  be  produced  in  very  much  greater 
quantities  than  now  without  lessening  the  production 
of  anything  else. 

So  evident  is  this  that  many  people  think  and 
talk  and  write  as  tliough  the  trouble  is  that  there  is 
not  work  enough  to  go  around.  We  are  in  constant 
fear  that  other  nations  may  do  for  us  some  of  the 
work  we  might  do  for  ourselves,  and,  to  prevent 
them,  guard  ourselves  with  a  tariff.  We  laud  as 
public  benefactors  those  who,  as  we  say,  "furnish 
employment."  We  are  constantly  talking  as  though 
this  "furnishing  of  employment,"  this  "  giving  of 
work  "  were  the  greatest  boon  that  could  be  conferred 
upon  society.  To  listen  to  much  that  is  talked  and 
much  that  is  written,  one  would  think  that  the  cause 
of  poverty  is  that  there  is  not  work  enough,  for  so 
many  people,  and  that  if  the  Creator  had  made  the 
rock  harder,  the  soil  less  fertile,  iron  as  scarce  as 


108  "  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

gold,  and  gold  as  diamonds  ;  or  if  ships  would  sink 
and  cities  burn  down  oftener,  there  would  be  less 
poverty,  because  there  would  be  more  work  to  do. 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London  tells  a  deputation  of 
unemployed  worldngmen  that  there  is  no  demand 
for  their  labor,  and  that  the  only  resource  for  them 
is  to  go  to  the  poorhouse  or  emigrate.  The  English 
Government  is  shipping  from  Ireland  able-bodied 
men  and  women  to  avoid  maintaining  them  as  pau- 
pers. Even  in  our  own  land  tliere  are  at  all  times 
large  numbers,  and  in  hard  times  vast  numbers, 
earnestly  seeking  work — the  opportunity  to  give 
labor  for  the  things  produced  by  labor. 

Perhaps  nothing  shows  more  clearly  the  enormous 
forces  of  production  constantly  going  to  waste  than 
the  fact  that  the  most  prosperous  times  in  all  branches 
of  business  that  this  country  has  known  was  during 
the  civil  war,  when  we  were  maintaining  great  fleets 
and  armies,  and  millions  of  our  industrial  popu- 
lation were  engaged  in  supplying  them  with  wealth 
for  unproductive  consumption  or  for  reckless  de- 
struction. It  is  idle  to  talk  about  the  fictitious  pros- 
perity of  these  flush  times.  The  masses  of  the 
people  lived  better,  dressed  better,  found  it  easier 
to  get  a  living,  and  had  more  of  luxuries  and  amuse- 
ments than  in  normal  times.  There  was  more  real, 
tangible  wealth  in  the  North  at  the  close  than  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war.  'Nov  was  it  the  great  issue 
of  paper  money,  nor  the  creation  of  the  debt  which 


THAT    WE    ALL    MIGHT   BE    KICH.  109 

caused  tliis  prosperity.  The  Government  presses 
struck  off  promises  to  pay ;  they  could  not  print 
ships,  cannon,  arms,  tools,  food  and  clothing.  Nor 
did  we  borrow  these  things  from  other  countries  or 
"from  posterity."  Our  bonds  did  not  begin  to 
go  to  Europe  until  the  close  of  tlie  war,  and  the  peo- 
ple of  one  generation  can  no  more  borrow  from  the 
people  of  a  subsequent  generation  than  we  who  live 
on  this  planet  can  borrow  from  the  inhabitants  of 
another  planet  or  another  solar  system.  The  w^ealth 
consumed  and  destroyed  by  our  fleets  and  armies 
came  from  the  then  existing  stock  of  wealth.  We 
could  have  carried  on  the  war  without  the  issue  of  a 
single  bond,  if,  when  we  did  not  shrink  from  taking 
from  wife  and  children  their  only  bread-winner,  we 
had  not  shrunk  from  taking  the  wealth  of  the  rich. 
Our  armies  and  fleets  were  maintained,  the  enor- 
mous unproductive  and  destructive  use  of  wealth  was 
kept  up,  by  the  labor  and  capital  then  and  there  en- 
gaged in  production.  And  it  was  that  the  demand 
caused  by  the  war  stimulated  productive  forces  into 
activity  that  the  enormous  drain  of  the  war  was  not 
only  supplied,  but  that  the  North  grew  richer.  The 
waste  of  labor  in  marching  and  counter-marching, 
in  digging  trenches,  throwing  up  earthworks,  and 
fighting  battles,  the  waste  of  wealth  consumed  or 
destroyed  by  our  armies  and  fleets  did  not  amount 
to  as  much  as  the  waste  constantly  going  on  fi'om 
unemployed  labor  and  idle  or  partially  used  ma- 
chinery. 


110  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

It  is  evident  that  this  enormous  waste  of  produc- 
tive power  is  due,  not  to  defects  in  the  laws  of 
nature,  but  to  social  maladjustments  which  deny  to 
labor  access  to  the  natural  opportunities  of  labor 
and  rob  the  laborer  of  his  just  reward.  Evidently 
the  glut  of  markets  does  not  really  come  from  over- 
production when  there  are  so  many  who  want  the 
things  which  are  said  to  be  over-produced,  and 
would  gladly  exchange  their  labor  for  them  did 
they  have  opportunity.  Every  day  passed  in 
enforced  idleness  by  a  laborer  who  would  gladly  be 
at  work  could  he  find  opportunity,  means  so  much 
less  in  the  fund  which  creates  the  effective  demand 
for  other  labor  ;  every  time  wages  are  screwed 
down  means  so  much  reduction  in  the  purchasing 
power  of  the  workmen  whose  incomes  are  thus 
reduced.  The  paralysis  which  at  all  time  wastes 
productive  power,  and  which  in  times  of  industrial 
depression  causes  more  loss  than  a  great  war, 
springs  from  the  difficulty  which  those  who  would 
gladly  satisfy  their  wants  by  their  labor  find  in 
doing  so.  It  cannot  come  from  any  natural  limita- 
tion, so  long  as  human  desires  remain  unsatisfied, 
and  nature  yet  offers  to  man  the  raw  material  of 
wealth;  It  must  come  from  social  maladjustments 
which  j)ermit  the  monopolization  of  these  natural 
opportunities,  and  which  rob  labor  of  its  fair  reward. 

What  these  maladjustments  are  I  shall  in  subse- 
quent chapters  endeavor  to  show.     In  this  I  wish 


THAT    WE    ALL    MIGHT    BE    RICH.  Ill 

simply  to  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  productive 
power  in  such  a  state  of  civilization  as  ours  is 
sufficient,  did  we  give  it  play,  to  so  enormously 
increase  the  production  of  wealth  as  to  give 
abundance  to  all  —  to  point  out  that  the  cause  of 
poverty  is  not  in  natural  limitations,  which  we 
cannot  alter,  but  in  inequalities  and  injustices  of 
distribution  entirely  within  our  control. 

The  passenger  who  leaves  New  York  on  a  trans- 
Atlantic  steamer  does  not  fear  that  the  provisions 
will  give  out.  The  men  who  run  these  steamers  do 
not  send  them  to  sea  without  provisions  enough  for 
all  they  carry.  Did  he  who  made  this  whirling 
planet  for  our  sojourn  lack  the  forethought  of  man  ? 
Kot  so.  In  soil  and  sunshine,  in  vegetable  and 
animal  life,  in  veins  of  minerals,  and  in  pulsing 
forces  which  we  are  only  beginning  to  use,  are  capa- 
bilities which  we  cannot  exhaust — materials  and 
powers  from  which  human  effort,  guided  by  intelli- 
gence, may  gratify  every  material  want  of  every 
human  creature.  There  is  in  nature  no  reason  for 
poverty  —  not  even  for  the  poverty  of  the  crippled 
or  the  decrepit.  For  man  is  by  nature  a  social 
animal,  and  the  family  affections  and  the  social 
sympathies  would,  where  chronic  poverty  did  not 
distort  and  embrute,  amply  provide  for  those  who 
could  not  provide  for  themselves. 

But  if  we  will  not  use  the  intelligence  with  which 
we' have  been  gifted  to  adapt  social  organization  to 


112  SOCIAL    PKOBLEMS. 

natural  laws  —  if  we  allow  dogs-in-the-manger  to 
monopolize  what  they  cannot  use  ;  if  we  allow 
strength  and  cunning  to  rob  honest  labor,  we  must 
have  chronic  poverty,  and  all  the  social  evils  it  in-. 
evitably  brings.  Under  such  conditions  there 
would  be  poverty  in  paradise. 

"The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you."  If  ever  a 
scripture  has  been  wrested  to  the  devil's  service, 
this  is  that  scripture.  How  often  have  these  words 
been  distorted  from  their  obvious  meaning  to  soothe 
conscience  into  acquiescence  in  human  misery  and 
degradation — to  bolster  that  blasphemy,  the  very 
negation  and  denial  of  Christ's  teachings,  that  the 
Al]  Wise  and  Most  Merciful,  the  Infinite  Father, 
has  decreed  that  so  many  of  his  creatures  must  be 
poor  in  order  that  others  of  his  creatures  to  whom  he 
wills  the  good  things  of  life  should  enjoy  the  pleas- 
ure and  virtue  of  doling  out  alms  !  "  The  poor  ye 
have  alwaj^s  with  you,"  said  Christ;  but  all  his 
teachings  supply  the  limitation,  "until  the  coming 
of  the  Kingdom.''  In  that  kingdom  of  God  on 
earthy  that  kingdom  of  justice  and  love  for  which 
he  taught  his  followers  to  strive  and  ]n*ay,  there  will 
be  no  poor.  But  though  the  faith  and  the  hope  and 
the  stri\ang  for  this  kingdom  are  of  the  very  essence 
of  Christ's  teaching,  the  staunchest  disbelievers  and 
revilers  of  its  possibility  are  found  among  those  who 
call  themselves  Christians.  Queer  ideas  of  the 
Divinity  have  some  of  these  Christians  who  hold 


FIKST    PRINCIPLES.  129 

the  education  of  the  human  race  to  ascend  one  degree  on 
the  scale  of  progress. 

"  Workingmen !  We  live  in  an  epoch  similar  to  that 
of  Christ.  We  live  in  the  midst  of  a  society  as  corrupt  as 
that  of  the  Eoman  Empire,  feeling  in  our  inmost  souls  the 
need  of  reanimating  and  transforming  it,  and  of  uniting  all 
its  various  members  in  one  sole  faith,  beneath  one  sole  law, 
in  one  sole  aim  —  the  free  and  progressive  development  of 
all  the  faculties  of  which  God  has  given  the  germ  to  his 
creatures.  We  seek  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven,  or,  rather,  that  earth  may  become  a  preparation  for 
heaven,  and  society  an  endeavor  after  the  progressive  reali- 
zation of  the  divine  idea. 

"  But  Christ's  every  act  was  the  visible  representation  of 
the  faith  he  preached ;  and  around  him  stood  apostles  who 
incarnated  in  their  actions  the  faith  they  had  accepted.  Be 
you  such  and  you  will  conquer.  Preach  duty  to  the  classes 
about  you,  and  fulfill,  as  far  as  in  you  lies,  your  own.  Preach 
virtue,  sacrifice  and  love;  and  be  yourselves  virtuous,  loving 
and  ready  for  self-sacrifice.  Speak  your  thoughts  boldly, 
and  make  known  your  wants  courageously ;  but  without 
anger,  without  reaction,  and  without  threats.  The  strongest 
menace,  if  indeed  there  be  those  for  whom  threats  are 
necessary,  will  be  the  firmness,  not  [the  irritation,  of  your 
speech." 


CHAPTEK  X. 

THE    RIGHTS    OF    MAN. 

There  are  those  who,  when  it  suits  their  purpose, 
say  that  there  are  no  natural  rights,  but  that  all 
rights  spring  from  the  grant  of  the  sovereign  politi- 
cal power.  It  were  waste  of  time  to  argue  with 
such  persons.  There  are  some  facts  so  obvious  as  to 
be  beyond  the  necessity  of  argument.  And  one  of 
these  facts,  attested  by  universal  consciousness,  is 
that  there  are  rights  as  between  man  and  man  which 
existed  before  the  formation  of  government,  and 
which  continue  to  exist  in  spite  of  the  abuse  of  gov- 
ernment ;  that  there  is  a  higher  law  than  any  hu- 
man law — to  wit,  the  law  of  the  Creator,  impressed 
upon  and  revealed  through  nature,  which  is  before 
and  above  human  laws,  and  upon  conformity  to 
which  all  human  laws  must  depend  for  their  validity. 
To  deny  this  is  to  assert  that  there  is  no  standard 
whatever  by  which  the  rightfulness  or  wrongfulness 
of  laws  and  institutions  can  be  measured  ;  to  assert 
that  there  can  be  no  actions  in  themselves  right  and 
none  in  themselves  wrong  ;  to  assert  that  an  edict 
which  commanded  mothers  to  kill  their  children 
should  receive  the  same  respect  as  a  law  prohibiting 
infanticide. 

130 


THE    RIGHTS    OF    MAN.  131 

These  natural  rights,  this  higher  law,  form  the 
only  true  and  sure  basis  for  social  organization. 
Just  as,  if  we  would  construct  a  successful  machine, 
we  must  conform  to  physical  laws,  such  as  the  law 
of  gravitation,  the  law  of  combustion,  the  law  of 
expansion,  etc.;  just  as,  if  we  would  maintain 
bodily  health,  we  must  conform  to  the  laws  of 
physiology  ;  so,  if  we  would  have  a  peaceful  and 
healthful  social  state,  we  must  conform  our  institu- 
tions to  the  great  moral  laws — laws  to  which  we  are 
absolutely  subject,  and  which  are  as  much  above  our 
control  as  are  the  laws  of  matter  and  of  motion. 
And  as,  when  we  find  that  a  machine  will  not  work, 
we  infer  that  in  its  construction  some  law  of  physics 
has  been  ignored  or  defied,  so  when  we  find  social 
disease  and  political  evils  may  we  infer  that  in  the 
organization  of  society  moral  law  has  been  defied 
and  the  natural  rights  of  man  have  been  ignored. 

These  natural  rights  of  man  are  thus  set  forth 
in  the  American  Declaration  of  Independence 
as  the  basis  upon  which  alone  legitimate  govern- 
ment can  rest : 

"  We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self-evident  —  that  all  men 
are  created  equal ;  that  they  are  endowed  by  their  Creator 
with  certain  unalienable  rights ;  that  among  these  are  life, 
liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness ;  that,  to  secure  these 
rights,  governments  are  instituted  among  men,  deriving 
their  just  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed ;  that, 
whenever  any  form  of  government  becomes  destructive  of 
these  ends,  it  is  the  right  of  the  people  to  alter  or  to  abolish 
it,  and  to  institute  a  new  govermneut,  laying  its  foundations 


132  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

on  such  principles,  and  organizing  its  powers  in  such  form, 
as  shall  seem  to  them  most  likely  to  affect  their  safety  and 
happiness," 

So  does  the  preamble  to  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  appeal  to  the  same  principles  : 

"  We,  the  people  of  the  United  States,  in  order  to  form  a 
more  perfect  union,  establish  justice,  insure  domestic  tranquil- 
lity, provide  for  the  common  defense,  promote  the  gen- 
eral welfare,  and  secure  the  blessings  of  liberty  to  ourselves  and 
our  posterity  do  ordain  and  establish  this  Constitution  for 
the  United  States  of  America." 

And  so,  too,  is  the  same  fundamental  and  self- 
evident  truth  set  forth  in  that  grand  Declaration  of 
the  Eights  of  Man  and  of  Citizens,  issued  by  the 
National  Assembly  of  France  in  1789  : 

"The  representatives  of  the  people  of  France,  formed 
into  a  National  Assembly,  considering  that  ignorance,  neglect, 
or  contempt  of  human  rights  are  the  sole  causes  of  public  misfor- 
tunes and  corruptions  of  government,  have  resolved  to  set  forth, 
in  a  solemn  declaration,  those  natural,  imprescriptible  and 
inalienable  rights,"  and  do  "  recognize  and  declare,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  with  the  hope  of  His 
blessing  and  favor,  the  following  sacred  rights  of  men  and 
of  citizens : 

"  I.  Men  are  born  and  always  continue  free  and  equal  in 
respect  of  their  rights.  Civil  distinctions,  therefore,  can 
only  be  founded  on  public  utility. 

"  II.  The  end  of  all  political  associations  is  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  natural  and  imprescriptible  rights  of  man,  and 
these  rights  are  liberty,  property,  security,  and  resistance  of 
oppression." 

It  is  one  thing  to  assert  the  eternal  principles,  as 
they  are  asserted  in  times  of  upheaval,  when  men 


THE    RIGHTS    OF   MAN.  133 

of  convictions  and  of  the  courage  of  their  convic- 
tions come  to  the  front,  and  another  thing  for  a 
people  just  emerging  from  the  night  of  ignorance 
and  superstition,  and  enslaved  bj  habits  of  thought 
formed  by  injustice  and  oppression,  to  adhere  to  and 
carry  them  out.  The  French  people  have  not  been 
true  to  these  principles,  nor  yet,  with  far  greater 
advantages,  have  we.  And  so,  though  the  ancient 
regime^  with  its  blasphemy  of  "right  divine,"  its 
Bastile  and  its  letters  de  cachet^  have  been  abolished 
in  France ;  there  have  come  red  terror  and  white 
terror.  Anarchy  masquerading  as  Freedom,  and 
Imperialism  deriving  its  sanction  from  universal 
suffrage,  culminating  in  such  a  poor  thing  as  the 
French  Republic  of  to-day.  And  here,  with  our 
virgin  soil,  with  our  exemption  from  foreign  com- 
plications, and  our  freedom  from  powerful  and 
hostile  neighbors,  all  we  can  show  is  another  poor 
thing  of  a  Republic,  with  its  rings  and  its  bosses,  its 
railroad  kings  controlling  sovereign  states,  its 
gangrene  of  corruption  eating  steadily  toward  the 
political  heart,  its  tramps  and  its  strikes,  its  ostenta- 
tion of  ill-gotten  wealth,  its  children  toiling  in 
factories,  and  its  women  working  out  their  lives  for 
bread ! 

It  is  possible  for  men  to  see  the  truth,  and  assert 
the  truth,  and  to  hear  and  repeat,  again  and  again, 
formulas  embodying  the  truth,  without  realizing  all 
that  that  truth  involves.      Men   who   signed  the 


134  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

Declamtion  of  Independence,  or  applauded  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  men  who  year  after 
year  read  it,  and  heard  it,  and  honored  it,  did  so 
without  thinking  that  the  eternal  principles  of  right 
which  it  invoked  condemned  the  existence  of  negro 
slavery  as  well  as  the  tyranny  of  George  III.  And 
many  who,  awakening  to  the  fuller  truth,  asserted 
the  unalienable  rights  of  man  against  chattel  slavery, 
did  not  see  that  these  rights  involved  far  more  than 
the  denial  of  property  in  human  flesh  and  blood  ; 
and  as  vainly  imagined  that  they  had  fully  asserted 
them  when  chattel  slaves  had  been  emancipated  and 
given  the  suffrage,  as  their  fathers  vainly  imagined 
they  had  fully  asserted  them,  when  they  threw  off 
allegiance  to  the  English  king  and  established  here 
a  democratic  republic. 

The  common  belief  of  Americans  of  to-day  is  that 
among  us  the  equal  and  unalienable  rights  of  man 
are  now  all  acknowledged,  while  as  for  poverty, 
crime,  low  wages,  ''over  production,"  political  cor- 
ruption, and  so  on,  they  are  to  be  referred  to  the 
nature  of  things — that  is  to  say,  if  any  one  presses 
for  a  more  definite  answer,  they  exist  because  it  is 
the  will  of  God,  the  Creator,  that  they  should  exist. 
Yet  I  beliete  that  these  evils  are  demonstrably  due 
to  our  failure  to  fully  acknowledge  the  equal  and 
unalienable  rights  with  which,  as  asserted  as  a  self- 
eviden.t  truth  by  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
all  men  have  been  endowed  by  God,  their  Creator. 


THE    RIGHTS    OF    MAN.  135 

I  believe  the  National  Assembly  of  France  were  right 
when,  a  century  ago,  inspired  by  the  same  spirit 
that  gave  us  political  freedom,  they  declared  that 
the  great  cause  of  public  misfortunes  and  corruptions 
of  government  is  ignorance,  neglect,  or  contempt  of 
human  rights.  And  just  as  the  famine  which  was 
then  decimating  France, -the  bankruptcy  and  cor- 
ruption of  her  Government,  the  brutish  degrada- 
tion of  her  working  classes,  and  the  demoralization  of 
her  aristocracy,  were  directly  traceable  to  the  denial 
of  the  equal,  natural  and  imprescriptible  rights  of 
men,  so  now  the  social  and  political  problems  which 
menace  the  American  republic,  in  common  with  the 
whole  civilized  world,  spring  from  the  same  cause. 
Let  us  consider  the  matter.  The  equal,  natural 
and  unalienable  right  to  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit 
of  happiness,  does  it  not  involve  the  right  of  each  to 
the  free  use  of  his  powers  in  making  a  living  for 
himself  and  his  family,  limited  only  by  the  equal 
right  of  all  others  ?  Does  it  not  require  that  each 
shall  be  free  to  make,  to  save  and  to  enjoy  what 
wealth  he  may,  without  interference  with  the  equal 
rights  of  others  ;  that  no  one  shall  be  compelled  to 
give  forced  labor  to  another,  or  to  yield  up  his  earn- 
ings to  another ;  that  no  one  shall  be  permitted  to 
extort  from  another  labor  or  earnings  ?  All  this 
goes  without  the  saying.  Any  recognition  of  the 
equal  right  to  life  and  liberty  which  would  deny 
the  right  to  property — the  right  of  a  man  to  his 


136  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

labor  and  to  the  full  fruits  of  his  labor,  would  be 
mockery. 

But  that  is  just  what  we  do.  Our  so-called  recog- 
nition of  the  equal  and  natural  rights  of  man  is  to 
large  classes  of  our  people  nothing  but  a  mockery, 
and  as  social  pressure  increases,  is  becoming  a  more 
bitter  mockery  to  larger  classes,  because  our  institu- 
tions fail  to  secure  the  rights  of  men  to  their  labor 
and  the  fruits  of  their  labor. 

That  this  denial  of  a  primary  human  right  is  the 
cause  of  poverty  on  the  one  side  and  of  overgrown 
fortunes  on  the  other,  and  of  all  the  waste  and 
demoralization  and  corruption  that  flow  from  the 
grossly  unequal  distribution  of  wealth,  may  be 
easily  seen. 

As  I  am  speaking  of  conditions  general  over  the 
whole  civilized  world,  let  us  first  take  the  case  of 
another  country,  for  we  can  sometimes  see  the  faults 
of  our  neighbors  more  clearly  than  our  own.  Eng- 
land, the  country  from  which  we  derive  our  language 
and  institutions,  is  behind  us  in  the  formal  recog- 
nition of  political  liberty  ;  but  there  is  as  much 
industrial  liberty  there  as  here  —  and  in  some  respects 
more,  for  England,  though  she  has  not  yet  reached 
free  trade,  has  got  rid  of  the  "  protective''  swindle, 
which  we  still  hug.  And  the  English  people — poor 
things — are,  as  a  whole,  satisfied  of  their  freedom, 
and  boast  of  it.  They  think,  for  it  has  been  so  long 
preached  to  them  that  most  of  them  honestly  believe 


THE    RIGHTS    OF   MAN.  137 

it,  tliat  Englishmen  are  the  freest  people  in  the  world, 
and  thej  sing  "'Britons  never  shall  be  slaves," 
as  though  it  were  indeed  true  that  slaves  could 
not  breathe  British  air. 

Let  us  take  a  man  of  the  masses  of  this  people — 
a  "free-born  Englishman,"  coming  of  long  genera- 
tions of  "free-born  Englishmen,"  in  Wiltshire  or 
Devonshire  or  Somersetshire,  on  soil  which,  if  jou 
could  trace  his  genealogy,  you  would  find  his 
fathers  have  been  tilling  from  early  Saxon  times. 
He  grows  to  manhood,  we  will  not  stop  to  inquire 
how,  and,  as  is  the  natural  order,  he  takes  himself 
a  wife.  Here  he  stands,  a  man  among  his  fellows, 
in  a  world  in  which  the  Creator  has  ordained  that 
he  should  get  a  living  by  his  labor.  He  has  wants, 
and  as,  in  the  natural  order,  children  come  to  him, 
he  will  have  more  ;  but  he  has  in  brain  and  muscle 
the  natural  power  to  satisfy  these  wants  from  the 
storehouse  of  nature.  He  knows  how  to  dig  and 
plow,  to  sow  and  to  reap,  and  there  is  the  rich  soil, 
ready  now,  as  it  was  thousands  of  years  ago,  to  give 
back  wealth  to  labor.  The  rain  falls  and  the  sun 
shines,  and  as  the  planet  circles  around  her  orbit. 
Spring  follows  Winter,  and  Summer  succeeds 
Spring.  It  is  this  man's  first  and  clearest  right  to 
earn  his  living,  to  transmute  his  labor  into  wealth, 
and  to  possess  and  enjoy  that  wealth  for  his  own 
sustenance  and  benefit,  and  for  the  sustenance  and 
benefit  of  those  whom  nature  places  in  dependence 


138  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

on  him.  He  has  no  right  to  demand  any  one 
else's  earnings,  nor  has  any  one  else  a  right  to 
demand  any  portion  of  his  earnings.  He  has 
no  right  to  compel  any  one  else  to  work  for 
his  benefit ;  nor  have  others  a  right  to  demand 
that  he  shall  work  for  their  benefit.  This 
right  to  himself,  to  the  use  of  his  own  powers 
and  the  results  of  his  own  exertions,  is  a  natural, 
self-evident  right,  which,  as  a  matter  of  principle, 
no  one  can  dispute,  save  upon  the  blasphemous 
contention  that  some  men  were  created  to  work  for 
other  men.  And  this  primary,  natural  right  to  his 
own  labor,  and  to  the  fruits  of  his  own  labor,  ac- 
corded, this  man  can  abundantly  provide  for  his 
own  needs  and  for  the  needs  of  his  family.  His 
labor  will,  in  the  natural  order,  produce  wealth, 
which,  exchanged  in  accordance  with  mutual  desires 
for  wealth  which  others  have  produced,  will  supply 
his  family  with  all  the  material  comforts  of  life,  and 
in  the  absence  of  serious  accident,  enable  him  to 
bring  up  his  children,  and  lay  by  such  a  surplus 
that  he  and  his  wife  may  take  their  rest,  and  enjoy 
their  sunset  hour  in  the  declining  years  when 
strength  shall  fail,  without  asking  any  one's  alms 
or  being  beholden  to  any  bounty  save  that  of  "  Our 
Father  which  art  in  heaven." 

But  what  is  the  fact  ?  The  fact  is,  that  the  right 
of  this  "  free-born  Englishman  "  to  his  own  labor 
and  the  fruits  of  his  labor  is  denied  as  fully  and 


THE   RIGHTS   OF   MAN.  139 

completely  as  though  he  were  made  oj  law  a  slave ; 
that  he  is  compelled  to  work  for  the  enrichment  of 
others  as  truly  as  though  English  law  had  made  him 
the  property  of  an  owner.  The  law  of  the  land  does 
not  declare  that  he  is  a  slave  :  on  the  contrary,  it 
formally  declares  that  he  is  a  free  man — free  to  work 
for  himself,  and  free  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  labor. 
But  a  man  cannot  labor  without  something  to  labor 
on,  any  more  than  he  can  eat  without  having  some- 
thing to  eat.  It  is  not  in  human  powers  to  make 
something  out  of  nothing.  This  is  not  contemplated 
in  the  creative  scheme.  Nature  tells  us  that  if 
we  will  not  work  we  must  starve  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  supplies  us  with  everything  necessary  to  work. 
Food,  clothing,  shelter,  all  the  articles  that  minister 
to  desire  and  that  we  call  wealth,  can  be  produced 
by  labor,  but  only  when  the  raw  material  of  which 
they  must  be  composed  is  drawn  from  the  land. 

To  drop  a  man  in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  and  tell  him  he  is  at  liberty  to  walk  ashore, 
would  not  be  more  bitter  irony  than  to  place  a  man 
where  all  the  land  is  appropriated  as  the  property 
of  other  people  and  to  tell  him  that  he  is  a  free 
man,  at  liberty  to  work  for  himself  and  to  enjoy  his 
own  earnings.  That  is  the  situation  in  which  our 
Englishman  finds  himself.  He  is  just  as  free  as  he 
would  be  were  he  suspended  over  a  precipice  while 
somebody  else  held  a  sharp  knife  to  the  rope  ;  just 
as  free  as  if  thirsting  in  a  desert  he  found  the  only 


14:0  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

spring  for  miles  walled  and  guarded  by  armed  men 
who  told  liim  lie  could  not  drink  unless  he  freely 
contracted  with  them  on  their  terms.  Had  this 
Englishman  lived  generations  ago,  in  the  time  of 
his  Saxon  ancestors,  he  w^ould,  when  he  became  of 
age,  and  had  taken  a  wife,  been  allotted  his  house- 
plot  and  his  seed-plot ;  he  would  have  had  an 
equal  share  in  the  great  fields  which  the  villagers 
cultivated  together,  he  would  have  been  free  to 
gather  his  fagots  or  take  game  in  the  common 
wood,  or  to  graze  his  beasts  on  the  common 
pasturage.  Even  a  few  generations  ago,  after  the 
land-grabbing  that  began  with  the  Tudors  had  gone 
on  for  some  centuries,  he  would  have  found  in  j'et 
exisiting  commons  some  faint  survival  of  the  an- 
cient principle  that  this  planet  was  intended  for  all 
men,  not  for  some  men.  But  now  he  finds  every 
foot  of  land  inclosed  against  him.  The  fields  which 
his  forefathers  tilled,  share  and  share  alike,  are  the 
priv^ate  property  of  "  my  lord,"  who  rents  it  out  to 
large  farmers  on  terms  so  high  that,  to  get  ordi- 
nary interest  on  their  capital,  they  must  grind  the 
faces  of  their  laborers ;  the  ancient  woodland  is  in- 
closed by  a  high  wall,  topped  with  broken  glass, 
and  is  patroled  by  gamekeepers  with  loaded  guns 
and  the  authorit}^  to  take  any  intruder  before  the 
magistrate,  who  will  send  him  to  prison  ;  the  old- 
time  common  has  become  "  my  lord's  "  great  park, 
on  which  Ids  fat  cattle  graze,  and  Ms  supple-limbed 


THE    RIGHTS    OF    MAN.  141 

deer  daintily  browse.  Even  the  old  footpaths  that 
gave  short  cuts  from  road  to  road,  through  hazel - 
thicket  and  by  tinkling  brook,  are  now  walled  in. 

But  this  "free-born  Englishman,"  this  Briton 
who  never  shall  be  a  slave,  cannot  live  without  land. 
He  must  find  some  bit  of  the  earth's  surface  on 
which  he  and  his  wife  can  rest,  which  they  may  call 
"home."  But,  save  the  high-roads,  there  is  not  as 
much  of  their  native  land  as  they  may  cover  with 
the  soles  of  their  feet,  that  they  can  use  without 
some  other  human  creature's  permission  ;  and  on 
the  high-road  they  would  not  be  suffered  to  lie  down, 
still  less  to  make  them  a  bower  of  leaves.  So,  to 
to  get  living  space  in  his  native  land,  our  "free-born 
Englishman  "  must  consent  to  work  so  many  days 
in  the  month  for  one  of  the  "  owners  "  of  England, 
or,  what  amounts  to  the  same  thing,  he  must  sell  his 
labor,  or  the  fruits  of  his  labor,  to  some  third  party 
and  pay  the  "owner"  of  some  particular  part  of  the 
planet  for  the  privilege  of  living  on  the  planet. 
Having  thus  sacrificed  a  part  of  his  labor  to  get  per- 
mission from  another  fellow-creature  to  live,  if  he 
can,  our  free-born  Englishman  must  next  go  to  work 
to  procure  food,  clothing,  etc.  But  as  he  cannot 
get  to  work  without  land  to  work, on,  he  is  com- 
pelled, instead  of  going  to  work  for  himself,  to  sell 
his  labor  to  those  who  have  land  on  such  terms  as 
they  please,  and  those  terms  are  only  enough  to 
just  support  life  in  the  most  miserable  fashion — that 


142  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

is  to  saj,  all  the  produce  of  Ins  labor  is  taken  from 
him,  and  he  is  given  back  out  of  it  just  what  the 
hardest  owner  would  be  forced  to  give  the  slave  — 
enough  to  support  life  on.  He  lives  in  a  miserable 
hovel,  with  its  broken  floor  on  the  bare  ground,  and 
an  ill-kept  thatch,  througli  which  the  rain  comes. 
He  works  from  morning  to  night,  and  his  wife  must 
do  the  same  ;  and  their  children,  as  soon  almost  as 
they  can  walk,  must  also  go  to  work,  pulling  weeds, 
or  scaring  away  crows,  or  doing  such  like  jobs  for 
the  landowner,  who  graciously  lets  them  live  and 
work  on  his  land.  Illness  often  comes,  and  death 
too  often.  Then  there  is  no  recourse  but  the  parish 
or  "My  Lady  Bountiful,"  the  wife  or  daughter,  or 
almoner  of  "  the  God  Almighty  of  the  county-side," 
as  Tennyson  calls  him, — the  owner  (if  not  the 
maker)  of  the  world  in  these  parts,  who  doles  out  in 
insulting  and  degrading  charity  some  little  stint 
of  the  wealth  appropriated  from  the  labor  of  this 
family  and  of  other  such  families.  If  he  does  not 
"order  himself  lowly  and  reverently  to  all  his 
betters";  if  he  does  not  pull  his  poor  hat  off  his 
sheepish  head  whenever  "my  lord  "  or  "  my  lady," 
or  "his  honor,''  or  any  of  their  understrappers,  go 
by  ;  1  he  does  not  bring  up  his  children  in  the 
humility  which  these  people  think  proper  and  be- 
coming in  the  "  lower  classes  ";  if  there  is  suspicion 
that  he  may  have  helped  himself  to  an  apple  or 
snared  a  hare,   or  slyly  hooked  a  fish  from  the 


THE    RIGHTS    OF    MAN.  143 

stream,  this  "  free-born  Englishman  "  loses  charity 
and  loses  work.  He  must  go  on  the  parish  or 
starve.  He  becomes  bent  and  stiff  before  his  time. 
His  wife  is  old  and  worn,  when  she  ought  to  be 
in  her  prime  of  strength  and  beauty.  His  girls  — 
such  as  live  —  marry  such  as  he,  to  lead  such  lives 
as  their  mother's,  or,  perhaps,  are  seduced  by  their 
''betters,"  and  sent,  with  a  few  pounds,  to  a  great 
town,  to  die  in  a  few  years  in  brothel,  or  hospital, 
or  prison.  His  boys  grow  up  ignorant  and  brutish  ; 
they  cannot  support  him  when  he  grows  old,  even 
if  they  would,  for  they  do  not  get  back  enough  of 
the  proceeds  of  their  labor.  The  only  refuge  for 
the  pair  in  their  old  age  is  the  almshouse,  where, 
for  shame  to  let  them  starve  on  the  roadside,  these 
worked-out  slaves  are  kept  to  die, —  where  the  man 
is  separated  from  the  wife,  and  the  old  couple,  over 
whom  the  parson  of  the  church,  by  law  established, 
has  said,  "  Whom  God  hath  joined  together  let  no 
man  put  asunder,"  lead,  apart  from  each  other,  a 
prison-like  existence  until  death  comes  to  their  re- 
lief 

In  what  is  the  condition  of  such  a  "free-born 
Englishman"  as  this,  better  than  that  of  a  slave? 
Yet  if  this  is  not  a  fair  picture  of  the  condition  of 
the  English  agricultural  laborers,  it  is  only  because 
I  have  not  dwelt  upon  the  darkest  shades  —  the 
sodden  ignorance  and  brutality,  the  low  morality  of 
these  degraded  and  deb:xseLl  classes.     In  quantity 


144  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

and  qualitj  of' food,  in  clotliing  and  housing,  in 
ease  and  recreation,  and  in  morality,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  the  average  Southern  slave  was  bet- 
ter off  than  the  average  agricultural  laborer  is  in 
England  to-daj^  —  that  his  life  was  healthier  and 
happier  and  fuller.  So  long  as  a  plump,  well-kept, 
hearty  negro  was  worth  $1,000,  no  slave-owner, 
selfish  or  cold-blooded  as  he  might  be,  would  keep 
his  negroes  as  great  classes  of  "free-born  English- 
men ''  must  live.  But  these  white  slaves  have  no 
monej-value.  It  is  not  the  labor,  it  is  the  land  that 
commands  the  labor,  that  has  a  capitalized  value. 
You  can  get  the  labor  of  men  for  from  nine  to 
twelve  shillings  a  week — less  than  it  would  cost  to 
keep  a  slave  in  good  marketable  condition,  and  of 
children  for  sixpence  a  week,  and  when  they  are 
worked  out  they  can  be  left  to  die  or  "go  on  the 
parish." 

The  negroes,  some  say,  are  an  inferior  race.  But 
these  white  slaves  of  England  are  of  the  stock  that 
has  given  England  her  scholars  and  her  poets,  her 
philosophers  and  statesmen,  her  merchants  and  in- 
ventors, who  have  formed  the  bulwark  of  the  sea- 
girt isle,  and  have  carried  the  meteor  flag  around  the 
world.  They  are  ignorant,  and  degraded,  and  de- 
based ;  they  live  the  life  of  slaves  and  die  the  death 
of  paupers,  simply  because  they  are  robbed  of  their 
natural  rights. 


THAT    WE    ALL    MIGHT    BE    RICH.  113 

themselves  orthodox  and  contribute  to  the  conversion 
of  the  heathen.  A  very  rich  orthodox  Christian 
said  to  a  newspaper  reporter,  awhile  ago,  on  the 
completion  of  a  large  work  out  of  which  he  is  said 
to  have  made  millions:  "We  have  been  pecu- 
liarly favored  by  Divine  Providence  ;  iron  never 
was  so  cheap  before,  and  labor  has  been  a  drug  in 
the  market.'' 

That  in  spite  of  all  our  great  advances  we  have  yet 
with  us  the  poor,  those  who,  without  fault  of  their 
own,  cannot  get  healthful  and  wholesome  conditions 
of  life,  is  our  fault  and  ou7'  shame.  Who  that 
looks  about  him  can  fail  to  see  that  it  is  only  the 
injustice  that  denies  natural  opportunities  to  labor, 
and  robs  the  producer  of  the  fruits  of  his  toil,  that 
prevents  us  all  from  being  rich.  Consider  the  enor- 
mous powers  of  production  now  going  to  waste ; 
consider  the  great  number  of  unproductive  con- 
sumers maintained  at  the  expense  of  producers — 
the  rich  men  and  dudes,  the  worse  than  useless  Gov- 
ernment officials,  the  pickpockets,  burglars  and  confi- 
dence men ;  the  highl}^  respectable  thieves  who 
carry  on  their  operations  inside  the  law ;  the  great 
army  of  lawyers ;  the  beggars  and  paupers,  and  in- 
mates of  prisons  ;  the  monopolists  and  cornerers 
and  gamblers  of  every  kind  and  grade.  Consider 
how  much  brains  and  energy  and  capital  are  devoted, 
not  to  the  production  of  wealth,  but  to  the  grabbing 
of  wealth.  Consider  the  waste  caused  by  coinpeti- 
8 


114  SOCIAL   PKOBLEMS. 

tion  which  does  not  increase  wealth  ;  bv  laws  which 
restrict  production  and  exchange.  Consider  how 
human  power  is  lessened  by  insufficient  food,  bj 
unwholesome  lodgings,  by  work  done  under  condi- 
tions that  produc3  disease  and  shorten  life.  Con- 
sider how  intemperance  and  unthrift  follow  poverty. 
Consider  how  the  ignorance  bred  of  poverty  lessens 
production,  and  how  the  vice  bred  of  poverty  causes 
destruction,  and  w^ho  can  doubt  that  under  condi- 
tions of  social  justice  all  might  be  rich? 

The  wealth-producing  powers  that  would  be 
evoked  in  a  social  state  based  on  justice,  where 
wealth  went  to  the  producers  of  wealth,  and  the 
banishment  of  poverty  had  banished  the  fear  and 
greed  and  lusts  that  spring  from  it,  we  now  can 
only  faintly  imagine.  Wonderful  as  have  been  the 
discoveries  and  inventions  of  this  century,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  we  have  only  begun  to  grasp  that  domin- 
ion which  it  is  given  to  mind  to  obtain  over  matter. 
Discovery  and  invention  are  born  of  leisure,  of  ma- 
terial comfort,  of  freedom.  These  secured  to  all, 
and  who  shall  say  to  what  command  over  nature 
man  may  not  attain  ? 

It  is  not  necessary  that  any  one  should  be  con- 
demned to  monotonous  toil ;  it  is  not  necessary  that 
any  one  should  lack  the  wealth  and  the  leisure 
which  permit  the  development  of  the  faculties  that 
raise  man  above  the  animal.  Mind,  not  muscle,  is 
the  motor  of  progress,  the    force  which  compels 


THAT   WE    ALL   MIGHT   BE    RICH.  115 

nature  and  produces  wealth.  In  turning  men  into 
machines  we  are  wasting  the  highest  powers.  Al- 
ready in  our  society  there  is  a  favored  class  who 
need  take  no  thought  for  the  morrow — what  they 
shall  eat,  or  what  they  shall  drink,  or  wherewithal 
they  shall  be  clothed.  And  may  it  not  be  that 
Christ  was  more  than  a  dreamer  when  he  told  his 
disciples  that  in  that  kingdom  of  justice  for  which 
he  taught  them  to  work  and  pray  this  might  be  the 
condition  of  all  1 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

FIRST   PRINCIPLES. 

Whoever  considers  the  political  and  social  prob- 
lems that  confront  us,  must  see  that  thej  centre  in 
the  problem  of  the  distribution  of  wealth,  and  he 
must  also  see  that,  though  their  solution  may  be 
simple,  it  must  be  radical. 

For  every  social  wrong  there  must  be  a  remedy. 
But  the  remedy  can  be  nothing  less  than  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  wrong.  Half-way  measures,  mere  ameli- 
orations and  secondary  reforms,  can  at  any  time 
accomplish  little,  and  can  in  the  long  run  avail 
nothing.  Our  charities,  our  penal  laws,  our  re- 
strictions and  prohibitions,  by  which,  with  so  little 
avail,  we  endeavor  to  assuage  poverty  and  check 
crime,  what  are  they,  at  the  very  best,  but  the  de- 
vice of  the  clown  who,  having  put  the  whole  bur- 
den of  his  ass  into  one  pannier,  sought  to  enable 
the  poor  animal  to  walk  straight  by  loading  up  the 
other  pannier  with  stones. 

In  New  York,  as  I  write,  the  newspapers  and  the 
churches  are  calling  for  subscriptions  to  their  ''fresh 
air  funds,"  that  little  children  may  be  taken  for  a 
day  or  for  a  week  from  the  deadly  heat  of  stifling 
tenement  rooms  and  given  a  breath  of  the  fresh 

116 


FIRST    PRINCIPLES.  117 

breeze  of  sea  shore  or  mountain  ;  but  what  little 
does  it  avail,  when  we  take  such  children  only  to 
return  them  to  their  previous  conditions  —  con- 
ditions which  to  many  mean  even  worse  than  death 
of  the  body  ;  conditions  which  make  it  certain  that 
of  the  lives  that  may  thus  be  saved,  some  are  saved 
for  the  brothel  and  the  almshouse,  and  some  for  the 
penitentiary.  We  may  go  on  forever  merely  rais- 
ing fresh  air  funds,  and  how  great  soever  be  the 
funds  we  raise,  the  need  will  only  grow,  and  chil- 
dren — just  such  children  as  those  of  whom  Christ 
said,  ''Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these 
little  ones,  for  T  say  unto  you,  that  in  heaven  their 
angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  my  Father" — 
will  die  like  flies,  so  long  as  poverty  compels  fathers 
and  mothers  to  the  life  of  the  squalid  tenement- 
room.  We  may  open  "midnight  missions"  and 
support  "Christian  homes  for  destitute  young 
girls,"  but  what  will  they  avail  in  the  face  of  gen- 
eral conditions  which  render  so  many  men  unable 
to  support  a  wife  ;  which  make  young  girls  think  it 
a  privilege  to  be  permitted  to  earn  three  dollars  by 
eighty-one  hours'  work,  and  which  can  drive  a 
mother  to  such  despair  that  she  will  throw  her 
babies  from  a  wharf  of  our  Christian  city  and  then 
leap  into  the  river  herself!  How  vainly  shall  we 
endeavor  to  repress  crime  by  our  barbarous  punish- 
ment of  the  poorer  class  of  criminals  so  long  as 
children  are  reared  in  the  brutalizing  influences  of 


118  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

poverty,  so  long  as  the  bite  of  want  drives  men  to 
crime  ?  How  little  better  than  idle  is  it  for  us  to 
prohibit  infant  labor  in  factories  when  the  scale  of 
wages  is  so  low  that  it  will  not  enable  fathers  to 
support  their  families  without  the  earnings  of  their 
little  children?  How  shall  we  try  to  prevent  politi- 
cal corruption  by  framing  new  checks  and  setting 
one  official  to  watch  another  official,  when  the 
fear  of  want  stimulates  the  lust  for  wealth,  and 
the  rich  thief  is  honored  while  honest  poverty  is 
despised  ? 

[N^or  yet  could  we  accomplish  any  permanent 
equalization  in  the  distribution  of  wealth  were  we 
to  forcibly  take  from  those  who  have  and  give  to  those 
who  have  not.  W.e  would  do  great  injustice  ;  we 
would  work  great  harm  ;  but,  from  the  very  mo- 
ment of  such  a  forced  equalization,  the  tendencies 
which  show  themselves  in  the  present  unjust  in- 
equalities would  begin  to  assert  themselves  again, 
and  we  would  in  a  little  while  have  as  gross 
inequalities  as  before. 

What  we  must  do  if  we  would  cure  social  disease 
and  avert  social  danger  is  to  remove  the  causes 
which  pi'event  the  just  disti'ibution  of  wealth. 

This  work  is  only  one  of  removal.  It  is  not  nec- 
essary for  us  to  frame  e'.iborate  and  skillful  plans 
for  securing  the  just  distribution  of  wealth.  For 
the  just  distribution  of  wealth  is  manifestly  the 
natural  distribution  of  wealth,  and  injustice  in  the 


FIRST   PRINCIPLES.  119 

distribution  of  wealth  must,  therefore,  result  from 
artiiicial  obstructions  to  this  natural  distribution. 

As  to  what  is  the  just  distribution  of  wealth  there 
can  be  no  dispute.  It  is  that  which  gives  wealth  to 
him  who  makes  it,  and  secures  wealth  to  him  who 
saves  it.  So  clearly  is  this  the  only  just  distribution 
of  wealth  that  even  those  shallow  writers  who  at- 
tempt to  defend  the  existing  order  of  things  are 
driven,  by  a  logical  necessity,  to  falsely  assume  that 
those  who  now  possess  the  larger  share  of  wealth 
made  it  and  saved  it,  or  got  it  by  gift  or  by  inherit- 
ance, from  those  who  did  make  it  and  save  it ; 
whereas  the  fact  is,  as  I  have  in  a  previous  paper 
shown,  that  all  these  great  fortunes,  whose  corolla- 
ries are  paupers  and  tramps,  really  come  from  the 
sheer  appropriation  of  the  makings  and  savings  of 
other  people. 

And  that  this  just  distribution  of  wealth  is  the 
natural  distribution  of  wealth  can  be  plainly  seen. 
Nature  gives  wealth  to  labor,  and  to  nothing  but 
labor.  There  is,  and  there  can  be,  no  article  of 
wealth  but  such  as  labor  has  got  by  making  it,  or 
searching  for  it,  out  of  the  raw  material  which  the 
Creator  has  given  us  to  draw  from.  If  there  were 
but  one  man  in  the  world  it  is  manifest  that  he 
could  have  no  more  wealth  than  he  was  able  to 
make  and  to  save.  This  is  the  natural  order. 
And,  no  matter  how  great  be  the  population,  or 
how  elaborate  the  society,   no  one  can  have  more 


120  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

wealth  than  he  produces  and  saves,  unless  he  gets 
it  as  a  free  gift  from  some  one  else,  or  by  appro- 
priating the  earnings  of  some  one  else. 

An  English  writer  has  divided  all  men  into  three 
classes — workers,  beggars  and  thieves.  The  classi 
fication  is  not  complimentary  to  the  "  upper  classes  " 
and  the  "better  classes,"  as  they  are  accustomed  to 
esteem  themselves,  yet  it  is  economically  true. 
There  are  only  three  ways  by  which  any  individual 
can  get  wealth  —  by  work,  by  gift  or  by  theft. 
And,  clearly,  the  reason  why  the  woi'kers  get  so 
little  is  that  the  beggars  and  thieves  get  so  much. 
When  a  man  gets  wealth  that  he  does  not  produce, 
he  necessarily  gets  it  at  the  expense  of*  those  who 
produce  it. 

All  we  need  do  to  secure  a  just  distribution  of 
wealth,  is  to  do  that  which  all  theories  agree  to  be 
the  primary  function  of  government  —  to  secure  to 
each  the  free  use  of  his  own  powers,  limited  only 
by  the  equal  freedom  of  all  others  ;  to  secure  to 
each  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  own  earnings,  limited 
only  by  such  contributions  as  he  may  be  fairly 
called  upon  to  make  for  purposes  of  common  ben- 
efit. When  we  have  done  this  we  shall  have  done 
all  that  we  "can  do  to  make  social  institutions  con- 
form to  the  sense  of  justice  and  to  the  natural 
order. 

I  wish  to  emphasize  this  point,  for  there  are  those 
who  constantly  talk  and  write  as  though  whoever 


FIRST    PRINCIPLES.  121 

finds  fault  with  the  present  distribution  of  wealth 
were  demanding  that  the  rich  should  be  spoiled  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor ;  that  the  idle  should  be 
taken  care  of  at  the  expense  of  the  industrious,  and 
that  a  false  and  impossible  equality  should  be  created, 
which,  by  reducing  every  one  to  the  same  dead 
level,  would  destroy  all  incentive  to  excel  and  bring 
progress  to  a  halt. 

In  the  reaction  from  the  glaring  injustice  of  pres- 
ent social  conditions,  such  wild  schemes  have  been 
proposed,  and  still  find  advocates.  But  to  my  way 
of  thinking  they  are  as  impracticable  and  repugnant 
as  they  can  seem  to  those  who  are  loudest  in 
their  denunciations  of  "communism."  I  am  not 
willing  to  say  that  in  the  progress  of  humanity 
a  state  of  society  may  not  be  possible  which  shall 
realize  the  formula  of  Louis  Blanc,  "From  each 
according  to  his  abilities  ;  to  each  according  to 
his  wants,"  for  there  exist  to-day  in  the  religious 
Orders  of  the  Catholic  Church,  associations  which 
maintain  the  communism  of  early  Christianity. 
But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  only  power  by 
which  such  a  state  of  society  can  be  attained  and 
preserved  is  that  which  the  framers  of  the 
schemes  I  speak  of  generally  ignore,  even  when 
they  do  not  directly  antagonize  —  a  deep,  definite, 
intense,  religious  faith,  so  clear,  so  burning  as  to 
latterly  melt  away  the  thought  of  self — a  general 
moral  condition  such  as  that  which  the  Methodists 


122  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

declare,  under  the  name  of  "  sanctification,"  to  be 
individual  1 J  possible,  in  which  the  dream  of  pris- 
tine innocence  should  become  reality,  and  man,  so 
to  speak,  should  again  walk  with  God. 

But  the  possibility  of  such  a  state  of  society 
seems  to  me  in  the  present  stage  of  human  devel- 
opment a  speculation  which  comes  within  the  higher 
domain  of  religious  faith  rather  than  that  with  which 
the  economist  or  practical  statesman  can  concern 
himself  That  nature,  as  it  is  apparent  to  us  here,  in 
this  infinitesimal  point  in  space  and  time  that  we 
call  the  world,  is  the  highest  expression  of  the 
power  and  purpose  that  called  the  universe  into 
being,  what  thoughtful  man  dare  affirm  ?  Yet  it  is 
manifest  that  the  only  way  by  which  man  may 
attain  higher  things  is  by  conforming  his  conduct 
to  those  commandments  which  ar'e  as  obvious  in 
his  relations  with  his  fellows  and  with  external 
nature  as  though  they  were  graved  by  the  finger  of 
Omnipotence  upon  tablets  of  imperishable  stone. 
In  the  order  of  moral  development,  Moses  comes 
before  Christ  — ' '  Thou  shalt  not  kill "  ;  "  Thou  shalt 
not  commit  adultery";  "Thou  shalt  not  steal"; 
before  ''Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself " 
The  command  "Thou  shalt  not  muzzle  the  ox  that 
treadeth  out  the  corn,"  precedes  the  entrancing 
vision  of  universal  peace,  in  which  even  Nature's 
rapine  shall  cease,  when  the  lion  shall  lay  down 
with  the  lamb  and  a  little  child  shall  lead  them. 


FIRST   PRINCIPLES.  123 

That  justice  is  the  highest  quality  in  the  moral 
hierarch}^  I  do  not  say;  but  that  it  is  the  iirst. 
That  which  is  above  justice  must  be  based  on  justice, 
and  include  justice,  and  be  reached  througli  justice. 
It  is  not  by  accident  that,  in  the  Hebraic  religious 
development  which  through  Christianity  we  have 
inherited,  the  declaration,  "The  Lord  thy  God  is 
a  just  God,"  precedes  the  sweeter  revelation  of  a 
God  of  Love.  Until  the  eternal  justice  is  perceived, 
the  eternal  love  must  be  hidden.  As  the  individual 
must  be  just  before  he  can  be  truly  generous,  so  must 
human  society  be  based  upon  justice  before  it  can  be 
based  on  benevolence. 

This,  and  this  alone,  is  what  I  contend  for — that 
our  social  institutions  be  conformed  to  justice  ;  to 
those  natural  and  eternal  principles  of  right  that  are 
so  obvious  that  no  one  can  deny  or  dispute  them — 
so  obvious  that  by  a  law  of  the  human  mind  even 
those  who  try  to  defend  social  injustice  must  invoke 
them.  This,  and  this  alone,  I  contend  for — that 
he  who  makes  should  have  ;  that  he  who  saves 
should  enjoy.  I  ask  in  behalf  of  the  poor  nothing- 
whatever  that  properly  belongs  to  the  rich.  Instead 
of  weakening  and  confusing  the  idea  of  property,  I 
would  surround  it  with  stronger  sanctions.  Instead 
of  lessening  the  incentive  to  the  production  of 
wealth,  I  would  make  it  more  powerful  by  making 
the  reward  more  certain.  Whatever  any  man  has 
added  to  the  common  stock  of  wealth,  or  has  re- 


124  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

ceived  of  the  free  will  of  him  who  did  produce  it, 
let  that  be  his  as  against  all  the  world — his  to  use 
or  to  give,  to  do  with  it  whatever  he  may  please,  so 
long  as  such  use  does  not  interfere  with  the  equal 
freedom  of  others.  For  my  part,  I  would  put  no 
limit  on  acquisition.  Ko  matter  how  many  millions 
any  man  can  get  by  methods  which  do  not  involve 
the  robbery  of  others  —  they  are  his  :  let  him  have 
them.  I  would  not  even  ask  him  for  charity,  or  have 
it  dinned  into  his  ears  that  it  is  his  duty  to  help  the 
poor.  That  is  his  own  affair.  Let  him  do  as  he 
pleases  with  his  own,  without  restriction  and  with- 
out suggestion.  If  he  gets  without  taking  from 
others,  and  uses  without  hurting  others,  what  he 
does  with  his  wealth  is  his  own  business  and  his  own 
responsibility. 

I  reverence  the  spirit  that,  in  such  cities  as  Lon- 
don and  Xew  York,  organizes  such  great  charities 
and  gives  to  them  such  magnificent  endowments, 
but  that  there  is  need  for  such  charities  proves  to 
me  that  it  is  a  slander  upon  Christ  to  call  such  cities 
Christian  cities.  I  honor  the  Astors  for  having 
provided  for  New  York  the  Astor  Library,  and 
Peter  Cooper  for  having  given  it  the  Cooper  Insti- 
tute ;  but  it  is  a  shame  and  a  disgrace  to  the.  people 
of  New  York  that  such  things  should  be  left  to  pri- 
vate beneficence.  And  he  who  struggles  for  that 
recognition  of  justice  which,  by  securing  to  each  his 
own,  will  make  it  needless  to  beg  for  alms  from  one 


FIRST    PKINCIPLES.  125 

for  another,  is  doing  a  greater  and  a  higher  work 
than  he  who  builds  churches,  or  endows  hospitals, 
or  founds  colleges  and  libraries.  This  justice,  which 
would  first  secure  to  each  his  own  earnings,  is,  it 
seems  to  me,  of  that  higher  than  almsgiving,  which 
the  Apostle  had  in  mind,  when  he  said,  ^^ Though  I 
bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  j)oor^  and  though  I 
give  my  hody  to  he  hurned^  and  have  not  charity^  it 
projiteth  me  nothing. ^"^ 

Let  us  first  ask  what  are  the  natural  rights  of  men, 
and  endeavor  to  secure  them,  before  we  propose 
either  to  beg  or  to  pillage. 

In  what  succeeds  I  shall  consider  what  are  the 
natural  rights  of  men,  and  how,  under  present 
social  adjustments,  they  are  ignored  and  denied. 
This  is  made  necessary  by  the  nature  of  this  in- 
quiry. But  I  do  not  wish  to  call  upon  those  my 
voice  may  reach  to  demand  their  own  rights,  so  much 
as  to  call  upon  them  to  secure  the  rights  of  others 
more  helpless.  I  believe  that  the  idea  of  duty  is 
more  potent  for  social  improvement  than  the  idea  of 
interest ;  that  in  sympathy  is  a  stronger  social  force 
than  in  selfishness.  I  believe  that  any  great  social 
improvement  must  spring  from,  and  be  animated 
by,  that  spirit  which  seeks  to  make  life  better, 
nobler,  happier  for  others,  rather  than  by  that  spirit 
which  only  seeks  more  enjoyment  for  itself  For 
the  Mammon  of  Injustice  can  always  buy  the  selfish 


126  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

whenever  it  may  think  it  worth  while  to  pay 
enough  ;  but  unselfishness  it  cannot  buy. 

In  the  idea  of  the  incarnation  —  of  the  God  vol- 
untarily descending  to  the  help  of  men,  which  is 
embodied  not  merely  in  Christianity,  but  in  other 
great  religions  —  lies,  I  sometimes  think,  a  deeper 
truth  than  perhaps  even  the  churches  teach.  This 
is  certain,  that  the  deliverers,  the  liberators,  the 
advancers  of  humanity,  have  always  been  those  who 
were  moved  by  the  sight  of  injustice  and  misery 
rather  than  those  spurred  by  their  own  suffering. 
As  it  was  a  Moses,  learned  in  all  the  lore  of  the 
Egyptians,  and  free  to  the  Court  of  Pharaoh,  and 
not  a  tasked  slave,  forced  to  make  bricks  without 
straw,  who  led  the  Children  of  Israel  from  the 
House  of  Bondage  :  as  it  was  the  Gracchi,  of  patri- 
cian blood  and  fortune,  who  struggled  to  the  death 
against  the  land-grabbing  system  which  finally  de- 
stroyed Rome,  as  it  must,  should  it  go  on,  in  time 
destroy  this  republic.  So  has  it  always  been  that 
the  oppressed,  the  degraded,  the  downtrodden  have 
been  freed  and  elevated  rather  by  the  efforts  and  the 
sacrifices  of  those  to  whom  fortune  had  been  more 
kind  than  by  their  own  strength.  For  the  more 
fully  men  have  been  deprived  of  their  natural  rights, 
the  less  their  power  to  regain  them.  The  more  men 
need  help,  the  less  can  they  help  themselves. 

The  sentiment  to  wliich  I  would  appeal  is  not  envy, 
nor  yet  self-interest,  but  that  nobler  sentiment  which 
found  strong,  though  rude,  expression  in  that  battle- 


FIRST    PRINCIPLES.  127 

lijmii  which  rang  through  the  land  when  a  great 
wrong  was  going  down  in  blood  : 

"  In  the  beauty  of  the  lihes,  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 

With  a  glory  in  His  bosom  to  transfigure  you  and  me, 
As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free  !  "  * 

And  what  is  there  for  which  life  gives  us  oppor- 
tunity that  can  be  compared  with  the  effort  to  do 
what  we  may,  be  it  ever  so  little,  to  improve  social 
conditions  and  enable  other  lives  to  reach  fuller, 
nobler  development.  Old  John  Brown,  dying  the 
death  of  the  felon,  launched  into  eternity  with 
pinioned  arms  and  the  kiss  of  the  slave  child  on  his 
lips — was  not  his  a  greater  life  and  a  grander  death 
than  though  his  years  had  been  given  to  self-seeking? 
Did  he  not  take  with  him  more  than  the  man  who 
grabs  for  wealth  and  leaves  his  millions  ?  Envy  the 
rich  !  Who  that  realizes  that  he  must  some  day 
wake  up  in  the  beyond  can  envy  those  who  spend 
their  strength  to  gather  what  they  cannot  use  here 
and  cannot  take  away  ?  The  only  thing  certain  to 
any  of  us  is  death.  "Like  the  swallow  darting 
through  thy  hall,  such,  O  King,  is  the  life  of  man  !  " 
We  come  from  where  we  know  not ;  we  go — who 
shall  say  ?  Impenetrable  darkness  behind,  and 
gathering  shades  before.  What,  when  our  time 
comes,  does  it  matter  whether  we  have  fared  dain- 
tily or  not,  whether  we  have  worn  soft  raiment  or 
not,  whether  we  leave  a  great  fortune  or  nothing  at 

*  "Battle-Hymn  of  the  Republic,"  by  Julia  Ward  Howe. 


12S  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

all,  whether  we  shall  have  reaped  honors  or  been 
despised,  have  been  counted  learned  or  ignorant — as 
compared  with  how  we  may  have  used  that  talent 
which  has  been  intrusted  to  us  for  the  Master's 
service  ?  What  shall  it  matter,  when  eyeballs  glaze 
and  ears  grow  dull,  if  out  of  the  darkness  may 
stretch  a  hand,  and  into  the  silence  may  come  a 
voice  : 

"  Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant: 
thou  hast  teen  faithfid  over  a  few  thirigs,  I  will 
make  tJtee  ruler  over  many  things  /  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord  !  " 

I  shall  speak  of  rights,  I  shall  speak  of  utility,  I 
shall  speak  of  interest ;  I  shall  meet  on  their  chosen 
ground  those  who  say  that  the  largest  production  of 
wealth  is  the  greatest  good,  and  material  progress 
the  highest  aim.  Nevertheless,  I  appreciate  the 
truth  embodied  in  these  words  of  Mazzini  to  the 
working-classes  of  Italy,  and  would  echo  them : 

"  Workingmen,  i3rothers !  When  Christ  came  and  changed 
the  face  of  the  world,  he  spoke  not  of  rights  to  the  rich, 
who  needed  not  to  achieve  them;  nor  to  the  poor,  who 
would  doubtless  have  abused  them,  in  imitation  of  the  rich ; 
he  spoke  not  of  utility,  nor  of  interest,  to  a  people  whom 
interest  and  utility  had  corrupted ;  he  spoke  of  duty,  he 
spoke  of  love,  of  sacrifice  and  of  faith ;  and  he  said  that 
they  should  be  first  among  all  who  had  contributed  most  by 
their  labor  to  the  good  of  all. 

"  And  the  word  of  Christ  breathed  in  the  ear  of  a  society 
in  which  all  true  life  was  extinct,  recalled  it  to  existence, 
conquered  the  millions,  conquered  the  world,  and  caused 


THE   EIGHTS   OF   ]VIAN,  145 

In  the  same  neighborhood  in  which  you  may  find 
such  people  as  these,  in  which  yon  may  see  squalid 
laborers'  cottages  where  human  beings  huddle  to- 
gether like  swine,  you  may  also  see  grand  mansions 
set  in  great,  velvety,  oak-graced  parks,  the  habita- 
tions of  local  "God  Almighty,"  as  the  Laureate 
styles  them,  and  as  these  brutalized  English  people 
seem  almost  to  take  them  to  be.  They  never  do  any 
work  —  they  pride  themselves  upon  the  fact  that  for 
hundreds  of  years  their  ancestors  have  never  done 
any  work ;  they  look  with  the  utmost  contempt  not 
merely  upon  the  man  who  works,  but  even  upon  the 
man  whose  grandfather  had  to  work.  Yet  they 
live  in  the  utmost  luxury.  They  have  town  houses 
and  country  houses,  horses,  carriages,  liveried 
servants,  yachts,  packs  of  hounds  ;  they  have  all 
that  wealth  can  command  in  the  way  of  literature 
and  education  and  the  culture  of  travel.  And  they 
have  wealth  to  spare,  which  they  can  invest  in  rail- 
way shares,  or  public  debts,  or  in  buying  up  land  in 
the  United  States.  But  not  an  iota  of  this  wealth 
do  they  produce.  They  get  it  because,  it  being  con- 
ceded that  they  own  the  land,  the  people  who  do 
produce  wealth,  must  hand  their  earnings  over  to 
them. 

Here,  clear  and  plain,  is  the  beginning  and  primary 
cause  of  that  inequality  in  the  distribution  of  wealth 
which,  in  England,  produces  such  dire,  soul-destroy- 
ing poverty,  side  by  side  with  such  wantonness  of 
10 


146  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

luxury,  and  which  is  to  be  seen  in  the  cities  even 
more  glaringly  than  in  the  country.  Here,  clear 
and  plain,  is  the  reason  why  labor  seems  a  drug, 
and  why,  in  all  occupations  in  which  mere  laborers 
can  engage,  wagec  tend  to  the  merest  pittance  on 
which  life  can  be  maintained.  Deprived  of  their 
natural  rights  to  land,  treated  as  intruders  upon 
God's  earth,  men  are  compelled  to  an  unnatural 
competition  for  the  privilege  of  mere  animal  exist- 
ence, that  in  manufacturing  towns  and  city  slums 
reduces  humanity  to  a  depth  of  misery  and  debase- 
ment in  which  beings,  created  in  the  image  of  God, 
sink  below  the  level  of  the  brutes. 

And  the  same  inequality  of  conditions  which 
we  see  beginning  here,  is  it  not  due  to  the  same 
primary  cause  ?  American  citizenship  confers  no 
right  to  American  soil.  The  first  and  most  essen- 
tial rights  of  man  —  the  rights  to  life,  liberty  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness  are  denied  here  as  com- 
pletely as  in  England.  And  the  same  results  must 
follow. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

DUMPING    GARBAGE. 

This  gulf-stream  of  Immanitj  that  is  setting  on 
our  shores  with  increasing  volume  is  in  all  respects 
worthy  of  more  attention  than  we  give  it.  In  many 
ways  one  of  the  most  important  phenomena  of  our 
time,  it  is  one  which  forcibly  brings  to  the  mind 
the  fact  that  we  are  living  under  conditions  which 
must  soon  begin  to  rapidly  change.  But  there  is 
one  part  of  the  immigration  coming  to  us  this  year 
which  is  specially  suggestive.  A  number  of  large 
steamers  of  the  transatlantic  lines  are  calling,  under 
contract  with  the  British  Government,  at  small  ports 
on  the  west  coast  of  Ireland,  filling  up  with  men, 
women  and  children,  whose  passages  are  paid  by 
their  government,  and  then,  ferrying  them  across 
the  ocean,  are  dumping  them  on  the  wharves  of 
I^ew  York  and  Boston  with  a  few  dollars  apiece  in 
their  pockets  to  begin  life  in  the  New  World. 

The  strength  of  a  nation  is  in  its  men.  It  is  its 
people  that  make  a  country  great  and  strong,  pro- 
duce its  wealth,  and  give  it  rank  among  other  coun- 
tries. Yet,  here  is  a  civilized  and  Christian  gov- 
ernment, or  one  that  passes  for  such,   shipping  off 

U7 


148  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

its  people,  to  be  dumped  upon  another  continent,  as 
garbage  is  shipped  off  from  New  York  to  be 
dumped  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  JSTor  are  these  peo- 
ple undesirable  material  for  the  making  of  a  nation. 
Whatever  thej  may  sometimes  become  here,  when 
cooped  up  in  tenement-houses  and  exposed  to  the 
corruption  of  our  politics,  and  to  the  temptation  of 
a  life  greatly  differing  from  that  to  which  they  have 
been  accustomed,  they  are  in  their  own  coimtry,  as 
any  one  who  has  been  among  them  there  can  testify, 
a  peaceable,  industrious,  and,  in  some  important 
respects,  a  peculiarly  moral  people,  who  lack  intel- 
lectual and  political  education,  and  the  robust  vir- 
tues that  personal  independence  alone  can  give, 
simply  because  of  the  poverty  to  which  they  are 
condemned.  Mr.  Trevelyan,  the  Cliief  Secretary 
for  Ireland,  has  declared  in  the  House  of  Commons 
that  they  are  physically  and  morally  healthy,  well 
capable  of  making  a  living,  and  yet  the  government 
of  which  he  is  a  member  is  shipping  them  away  at 
public  expense  as  New  York  ships  its  garbage  ! 

These  people  are  well  capable  of  making  a  living, 
Mr.  Trevelyan  says,  yet  if  they  remain  at  home 
they  will  only  be  able  to  make  the  poorest  of  poor 
livings  in  the  best  of  times,  and  when  seasons  are 
not  of  the  best,  taxes  must  be  raised  and  alms  begged 
to  keep  them  alive  ;  and  so  as  the  cheapest  way  of 
getting  rid  of  them,  they  are  shipped  away  at  pub- 
lic expense. 


DUMPING    GARBAGE.  149 

What  is  the  reason  of  this  ?  Why  is  it  that  peo- 
ple, in  themselves  well  capable  of  making  a  living, 
cannot  make  a  living  for  themselves  in  their  own 
country?  Simply  that  the  natural,  equal,  and  un- 
alienable rights  of  man,  with  which,  as  asserted  by 
our  Declaration  of  Independence,  these  human 
beings  have  been  endowed  by  their  Creator,  are 
denied  them.  The  famine,  the  pauperism,  the  mis- 
government  and  turbulence  of  Ireland,  the  bitter 
wrongs  which  keep  aglow  the  fire  of  Irish 
"sedition,"  and  the  difiiculties  with  regard  to  Ire- 
land which  perplex  English  statesmen,  all  spring 
from  what  the  National  Assembly  of  France,  in  1T89, 
declared  to  be  the  cause  of  all  public  misfortunes 
and  corruptions  of  government — the  contempt  of 
human  rights.  The  Irish  peasant  is  forced  to  starve, 
to  beg,  or  to  emigrate  ;  he  becomes  in  the  eyes  of 
those  who  rule  him  mere  human  garbage,  to  be 
shipped  off  and  dumped  anywhere,  because,  like 
the  English  peasant,  who,  after  a  slave's  life,  dies 
a  pauper's  death,  his  natural  rights  in  his  native 
soil  are  denied  him  ;  because  his  unalienable  right 
to  procure  wealth  by  his  own  exertions  and  to  re- 
tain it  for  his  own  uses  is  refused  him. 

The  country  from  which  these  people  are  shipped 
— and  the  Government-aided  emigration  is  as  noth- 
ing compared  to  the  voluntary  emigration — is  abun- 
dantly capable  of  maintaining  in  comfort  a  very 
much   larger  population   than   it    has    ever    had. 


150  ,  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

There  is  no  natural  reason  wliy  in  it  people  them- 
selves capable  of  making  a  living  should  suffer 
want  and  starvation.  The  reason  that  they  do  is 
simply  that  they  are  denied  natural  opportunities  for 
the  employment  of  their  labor,  and  that  the  laws 
permit  others  to  extort  from  them  the  proceeds 
of  such  labor  as  they  are  permitted  to  do.  Of 
these  people  who  are  now  being  sent  across  the 
Atlantic  by  the  English  government,  and  dumped 
on  our  wharves  with  a  few  dollars  in  their  pockets, 
there  are  probably  none  of  mature  years  who  have 
not  by  their  labor  produced  wealth  enough  not  only 
to  have  supported  them  hitherto  in  a  much  higher 
degree  of  comfort  than  that  in  which  they  have 
lived,  but  to  have  enabled  them  to  pay  their  own 
passage  across  the  Atlantic,  if  they  wanted  to  come, 
and  to  have  given  them  on  landing  here  a  capital 
sufficient  for  a  comfortable  start.  They  are  penni- 
less only  because  they  have  been  systematically 
robbed  from  the  day  of  their  birth  to  the  day  they 
left  their  native  shores. 

A  year  ago  I  traveled  through  that  part  of  Ire 
land  from  which  these  Government-aided  emigrants 
come.  What  surprises  an  American  at  first,  even 
in  Connaught,  is  the  apparent  sparseness  of  popula- 
tion, and  he  wonders  if  this  can  indeed  be  that  over- 
populated  Ireland  of  which  he  has  heard  so  nnich. 
There  is  plenty  of  good  land,  but  on  it  are  only  fat 
beasts,  and  sheep  so  clean  and  white  that  you  at 


DUMPING   GARBAGE.  151 

first  think  that  they  must  be  washed  and  combed 
every  morning.  Once  this  soil  was  tilled  and  was 
populous,  but  now  you  will  find  only  traces  of 
ruined  hamlets,  and  here  and  there  the  miserable 
hut  of  a  herd,  who  lives  in  a  way  no  Terra  del 
Fuegan  could  envy.  For  the  "owners"  of  this 
land,  who  live  in  London  and  Paris,  many  of  them 
never  having  seen  their  estates,  find  cattle  more 
profitable  than  men,  and  so  the  men  have  been 
driven  ofi^.  It  is  only  when  you  reach  the  bog 
and  the  rocks,  in  the  mountains  and  by  the  sea- 
shore, that  you  find  a  dense  population.  Here  they 
are  crowded  together  on  land  on  which  Nature 
never  intended  men  to  live.  It  is  too  poor  for 
grazing,  so  the  people  who  have  been  driven  from 
the  better  land  are  allowed  to  live  upon  it — as  long 
as  they  pay  their  rent.  If  it  were  not  too  pathetic, 
the  patches  they  call  fields  would  make  you  laugh. 
Originally  the  surface  of  the  ground  must  have  been 
about  as  susceptible  of  cultivation  as  the  surface  of 
Broadway.  But  at  the  cost  of  enormous  labor  the 
small  stones  have  been  picked  oft'  and  piled  up, 
though  the  great  boulders  remain,  so  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  use  a  plow  ;  and  the  surface  of  the  bog 
has  been  cut  away,  and  manured  by  sea-weed 
brought  from  the  shore  on  the  backs  of  men  and 
women,  till  it  can  be  made  to  grow  something. 

For  such  patches  of  rock  and  bog — soil  it  could 
not  be  called,  save   by  courtesy — which  has   been 


152  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

made  to  produce  anything  only  by  their  unremitting 
toil — these  people  are  compelled  to  pay  their  absen- 
tee landlords  rents  varying  from  a  pound  to  four 
pounds  per  acre,  and  then  they  mast  pay  another 
rent  for  the  seaweed,  which  the  surf  of  the  wild 
Atlantic  throws  upon  the  shore,  before  they  are 
permitted  to  take  it  for  manure,  and  another  rent 
still  for  the  bog  from  which  they  cut  their  turf  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  these  people  have  to  pay  more  for 
the  land  than  they  can  get  out  of  the  land.  They  are 
really  forced  to  pay  not  merely  for  the  use  of  the 
land  and  for  the  use  of  the  ocean,  but  for  the  use  of 
the  air.  Their  rents  are  made  up,  and  they  man- 
age to  live  in  good  times,  by  the  few  shillings 
earned  by  the  women,  who  knit  socks  as  they  carry 
their  creels  to  and  from  the  market  or  seashore  ;  by 
the  earnings  of  the  men,  who  go  over  to  England 
every  year  to  work  as  harvesters,  or  by  remittances 
sent  home  by  husbands  or  children  who  have  man- 
aged to  get  to  America.  In  spite  of  their  painful 
industry  the  poverty  of  these  people  is  appalling. 
In  good  times  they  just  manage  to  keep  above  the 
starvation  line.  In  bad  times,  when  a  blight  strikes 
their  potatoes,  they  must  eat  seaweed,  or  beg  relief 
from  the  poor-rates,  or  from  the  charitable  contri- 
butions of  the  world.  When  so  rich  as  to  have  a 
few  chickens  or  a  pig,  they  no  more  think  of  eating 
them  than  Yanderbilt  thinks  of  eating  his  $50,000 
trotters.      They  are  sold  to  help  pay  the  rent.      In 


DrMPING    GARBAGE.  153 

the  loughs  you  may  see  fat  sahnon  swimming  in 
from  the  sea  ;  but,  if  every  one  of  them  were  marked 
by  nature  with  tlie  inscription,  "  Lord  So-and-So, 
London,  with  the  compliments  of  God  Almighty,'' 
they  could  not  be  more  out  of  tlie  reach  of  these 
people.  The  best  shops  to  be  found  in  the  villages 
will  have  for  stock  a  few  pounds  of  sugar  and  tea 
weighed  out  into  ounce  and  half-ounce  papers,  a 
little  flour,  two  or  three  red  petticoats,  a  little  coarse 
cloth,  a  few  yards  of  flannel,  and  a  few  of  cotton, 
some  buttons  and  thread,  a  little  pig-tail  tobacco, 
and,  perhaps,  a  bottle  or  two  of  "  the  native"  hid 
away  in  the  ground  some  distance  from  tlie  cabin, 
so  that  if  the  police  do  capture  it  the  shopkeeper 
cannot  be  put  in  jail.  For  the  Queen  must  live  and 
the  army  must  be  supported,  and  the  great  distillers 
of  Dublin  and  Belfast  and  Cork,  who  find  such  a 
comfortable  monopoly  in  the  excise,  have  churches 
to  build  and  cathedrals  to  renovate.  So  poor  are 
these  people,  so  little  is  there  in  their  miserable 
cabins,  that  a  sub-sheriff  who,  last  3^ear,  superin- 
tended the  eviction  of  near  one  hundred  families  in 
one  place,  declared  that  the  effects  of  tlie  whole 
lot  were  not  worth  £3. 

But  the  landlords  —  ah!  the  landlords!  —  they 
live  differently.  Every  now  and  again  in  traveling 
through  this  country  you  come  across  some  land- 
lord's palatial  home  mansion,  its  magnificent 
grounds   inclosed   with   high   walls.      Pass   inside 


154  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

these  walls  and  it  is  almost  like  entering  another 
world.  Wide  stretches  of  rich  velvety  lawn,  beds 
of  bright  flowers,  noble  avenues  of  arching  trees, 
and  a  spacious  mansion  rich  with  every  appoint- 
ment of  luxury,  witli  its  great  stables,  kennels,  and 
appurtenances  of  every  kind.  But  though  they 
may  have  these  luxurious  home  places,  the  large 
landlords,  with  few  exceptions,  live  in  London  or 
Paris,  or  pass  part  of  the  year  in  the  great  cities 
and  the  rest  in  Switzerland  or  Italy  or  along  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  and  occasionally  one 
ot  them  takes  a  trip  over  here  to  see  our  new  coun- 
try, with  its  magnificent  opportunities  for  investing 
in  wild  lands  which  will  soon  be  as  valuable  as  En- 
glish or  Irish  estates.  They  do  not  have  to  work  ; 
their  incomes  come  without  work  on  their  part — all 
they  have  to  do  is  to  spend.  Some  collect  galleries 
of  the  most  valuable  paintings,  some  are  fanciers  of 
old  books,  and  give  fabulous  prices  for  rare  editions. 
Some  of  them  gamble,  some  keep  studs  of  racers 
and  costly  yachts,  and  some  get  rid  of  their  money 
in  ways  worse  than  these.  Even  their  agents, 
whose  business  it  is  to  extort  the  rent  from  the  Irish- 
men who  do  work,  live  luxuriously.  But  it  all 
comes  out  of  the  earnings  of  just  such  people  as  are 
now  being  dumped  on  our  wharves — out  of  their 
earnings,  or  out  of  what  is  sent  them  by  relatives 
in  America,  or  by  charitable  contributions. 


DUMPING   GARBAGE.  155 

It  is  to  maintain  such  a  system  of  robbery  as  this 
that  Ireland  is  filled  with  policemen  and  troops  and 
spies  and  informers,  and  a  people  who  might  be 
an  integral  part  of  the  British  nation  are  made  to 
that  nation  a  difiiculty,  a  weakness  and  a  danger. 
Economically,  the  Irish  landlords  are  of  no  more 
use  than,  so  many  great,  ravenous,  destructive 
beasts — packs  of  wolves,  herds  of  wild  elephants, 
or  such  dragons  as  St.  George  is  reported  to  have 
killed.  They  produce  nothing  ;  they  only  consume 
and  destroy.  And  what  they  destroy  is  more  even 
than  what  they  consume.  For,  not  merely  is  Ire- 
land turned  into  a  camp  of  military  police  and  red- 
coated  soldiery  to  hold  down  the  people  while  they 
are  robbed  ;  but  the  wealth  producers,  stripped  of 
capital  by  this  robbery  of  their  earnings,  and  con- 
demned by  it  to  poverty  and  ignorance,  are  unable 
to  produce  the  wealth  which  they  could  and  would 
produce  did  labor  get  its  full  earnings,  and  were 
wealth  left  to  those  who  make  it.  Surely  true  states- 
manship would  suggest  that  if  any  one  is  to  be 
shoveled  out  of  a  country  it  should  be  those  who 
merely  consume  and  destroy ;  not  those  who  pro- 
duce wealth. 

But  English  statesmen  think  otherwise,  and  these 
surplus  Irish  men  and  women  ;  these  garbage  Irish 
men  and  women  and  little  children  —  surplus  and 
garbage  because  the  landlords  of  Ireland  have  no 
use  for  them,  are  shoveled  out  of  their  own  countrv 


156  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

ana  dumped  on  our  wharves.  They  have  reached 
"the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave  " 
just  in  time  for  the  Fourth  of  July,  when  they  may 
hear  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  with  its  ring- 
ing assertion  of  unalienable  rights,  read  again  in 
our  annual  national  celebration. 

Have  they,  then,  escaped  from  the  system  which 
in  their  own  country  made  them  serfs  and  human 
garbage  ?  Not  at  all.  They  have  not  even  escaped 
the  power  of  their  old  landlords  to  take  from  them 
the  proceeds  of  their  toil. 

For  we  are  not  merely  getting  these  surplus 
tenants  of  English,  Scotch  and  Irish  landlords  —  we 
are  getting  the  landlords,  too.  Simultaneously 
with  this  emigration  is  going  on  a  movement  which 
is  making  the  landlords  and  capitalists  of  Great 
Britain  owners  of  vast  tracts  of  American  soil. 
There  is  even  now  scarcely  a  large  landowning  fam- 
ily in  Great  Britain  that  does  not  own  even  larger 
American  estates,  and  American  land  is  becoming 
with  them  a  more  and  more  favorite  investment. 
These  American  estates  of  "their  graces"  and 
"my  lords"  are  not  as  yet  as  valuable  as  their 
home  estates,  but  the  natural  increase  in  our  pop- 
ulation, augmented  by  emigration,  will  soon  make 
them  so. 

Every  "surplus"  Irishman,  Englishman  or 
Scotchman  sent  over  here  assists  directly  in  sending 
up  the  value  of  land  and  the  rent  of  land.     The 


DUMPING    GARBAGE.  157 

stimulatioM  of  emigration  from  the  Old  Country  to 
this  is  a  bright  idea  on  the  part  of  these  landlords 
of  two  continents.  They  get  rid  of  people  who,  at 
home,  in  hard  times,  they  might  have  to  support  in 
some  sort  of  fashion,  and  lessen,  as  they  think,  the 
forces  of  disaffection,  while  at  the  same  time  they 
augment  the  value  of  their  American  estates. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  some  of  these  evicted 
tenants  may  find  themselves  over  here  paying  rent 
to  the  very  same  landlords  to  swell  whose  incomes 
they  have  so  long  toiled  in  their  old  country  ;  but 
whether  this  be  so  or  not,  their  mere  coming  here, 
by  its  effect  in  increasing  the  demand  for  land,  helps 
to  enable  those  landlords  to  compel  some  others  of 
the  people  of  the  United  States  to  give  up  to  them 
a  portion  of  their  earnings  in  return  for  the  privilege 
of  living  upon  American  soil.  It  is  merely  with 
this  view,  and  for  this  purpose,  that  the  landlords 
of  the  Old  World  are  buying  so  much  land  in  the 
New.  They  do  not  want  it  to  live  upon ;  they 
prefer  to  live  in  London  or  Paris,  as  many  of  tl. 
privileged  classes  of  America  are  now  learning  to 
prefer  to  live.  They  do  not  want  to  work  it ;  they 
do  not  propose  to  work  at  all.  All  they  want  with 
it  is  the  power,  which,  as  soon  as  our  population  in- 
creases a  little,  its  ownership  will  give,  of  demand- 
ing the  earnings  of  other  people.  And  under  pre- 
sent conditions  it  is  a  matter,  not  of  a  generation  or 
two,  but  only  of  a  few  years,  before  they  will  be 


158  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

able  to  draw  from  their  American  estates  sums  even 
greater  than  from  their  Irish  estates.  That  is  to 
saj,  they  will  virtually  own  more  Americans  than 
they  now  own  Irishmen. 

So  far  from  these  Irish  immigrants  having  escaped 
from  the  system  that  has  impoverished  and  pauper- 
ized the  masses  of  the  Irish  people  for  the  benefit  of 
a  few  of  their  number,  that  system  has  really  more 
unrestricted  sway  here  than  in  Ireland.  In  spite  of 
the  fact  that  we  read  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence every  Fourth  of  July,  make  a  great  noise 
and  have  a  great  jubilation,  that  first  of  the  unalien- 
able rights  with  which  every  man  is  endowed  by  his 
Creator- — the  equal  right  to  the  use  of  the  natural 
elements  without  which  wealth  cannot  be  produced, 
nor  even  life  maintained — is  no  bettar  acknowl- 
edged with  us  than  it  is  in  Ireland. 

There  is  much  said  of  "Irish  landlordism,"  as 
though  it  were  a  peculiar  kind  of  landlordism,  or  a 
peculiarly  bad  kind  of  landlordism.  This  is  not  so. 
Irish  landlordism  is  in  nothing  worse  than  English 
landlordism,  or  Scotch  landlordism,  or  American 
landlordism,  nor  are  the  Irish  landlords  harder  than 
any  similar  class.  Being  generally  men  of  educa- 
tion and  culture,  accustomed  to  an  easy  life,  they 
are,  as  a  whole,  less  grasping  towards  their  tenants 
than  the  farmers  who  rent  of  them  are  to  the 
laborers  to  whom  they  sublet.  They  regard  the 
land  as  their  own,  that  is  all,  and  expect  to  get  an 


DUMPING   GARBAGE.  159 

income  from  it ;  and  the  agent  who  sends  them  the 
best  income  they  naturally  regard  as  the  best  agent. 

Such  popular  Irish  leaders  as  Mr.  Parnell  and 
Mr.  Sullivan,  when  they  come  over  here  and  make 
speeches,  have  a  good  deal  to  say  about  the  ' '  feudal 
landlordism"  of  Ireland.  This  is  all  humbug — an 
attempt  to  convey  the  impression  that  Irish  land- 
lordism is  something  different  from  American  land- 
lordism, so  that  American  landowners  will  not  take 
offense,  .  while  Irish  landowners  are  denounced. 
There  is  in  Ireland  nothing  that  can  be  called  feudal 
landlordism.  All  the  power  which  the  Irish  land- 
lord has,  all  the  tyranny  which  he  exercises,  springs 
from  his  ownership  of  the  soil,  from  the  legal  recog- 
nition that  it  is  his  property.  If  landlordism  in  Ire 
land  seems  more  hateful  than  in  England,  it  is  only 
because  the  industrial  organization  is  more  primi- 
tive, and  there  are  fewer  intermediaries  between  the 
man  who  is  robbed  and  the  man  who  gets  the  plun- 
der. And  if  either  Irish  or  English  landlordism 
seems  more  hateful  than  the  same  system  in  America, 
it  is  only  because  this  is  a  new  country,  not  yet  quite 
fenced  in.  But,  as  a  matter  of  law,  these  "my 
lords"  and  "your  graces,"  who  are  now  getting 
themselves  far  greater  estates  in  the  United  States 
than  they  have  in  their  own  country,  have  more 
power  as  landlords  here  than  there. 

In  Ireland,  especially,  the  tendency  of  legislation 
for  a  series  of  years  has  been  to  restrain  the  power 


160  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

of  the  landlord  in  dealing  with  the  tenant.  In  the 
United  States  he  has  in  all  its  fullness  the  unre- 
stricted power  of  doing  as  he  pleases  with  his  own. 
Rack-renting  is  with  us  the  common,  almost  the  ex- 
clusive, form  of  renting.  There  is  no  long  process 
to  be  gone  through  with  to  secure  an  eviction,  no 
serving  notice  upon  the  relieving  officer  of  the  dis- 
trict. The  tenant  whom  the  landlord  wants  to  get 
rid  of  can  be  "  iired  out  "  with  the  minimum  of  cost 
and  expense. 

Says  the  Tribune's  "Broadway  Lounger''  inci- 
dentally in  his  chatter : 

•'  Judge  Gedney  tells  me  that  on  the  first  of  this  month 
he  signed  no  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  warrants  of 
dispossession  against  poor  tenants.  His  district  includes 
many  blocks  of  the  most  squalid  variety  of  tenement- 
houses,  and  he  has  fully  as  much  unpleasant  work  of  this 
kind  as  any  of  his  judicial  brethren.  The  first  of  May  is, 
of  course,  the  heaviest  field-day  of  the  year  for  such  busi- 
ness, but  there  are  generally  at  the  beginning  of  ever}' 
month  at  least  one  hundred  warrants  granted.  And  to 
those  who  fret  about  the  miner  miseries  of  life,  no  more 
wholesome  cure  could  be  adniiui  tered  than  an  enforced 
attendance  in  a  district  court  on  su(  h  occasions.  The  low- 
est depths  of  misery  are  sounded.  Jiulge  Gedney  says,  too, 
that  in  the  worst  cases  the  sufi'ering  is  more  generally 
caused  by  misfortune  than  by  idleness  or  dissipation.  A 
man  gets  a  felon  on  his  hand,  which  keeps  him  at  home 
until  his  savings  are  gone  and  all  his  effects  are  in  the  pawn- 
shop, and  then  his  children  fall  sick  or  his  wife  dies,  and 
the  agent  of  the  house,  under  instructions  from  the  owner 
who  is  perhaps  in  Europe  enjoying  himself,  won't  wait  for 
the  rent,  and  serves  him  with  a  summons." 

A  while  ago,  when  it  was  bitter  cold,  I  read  in 


DUMPING    GARBAGE.  161 

the  papers  an  item  telling  how,  in  the  city  of 
Wilkesbarre,  Pa.,  a  woman  and  her  three  children 
Avere  found  one  night  huddled  in  a  hogshead  on  a 
vacant  lot,  faraislied  and  almost  frozen.  The  story 
was  a  simple  one.  The  man,  out  of  work,  had 
tried  to  steal,  and  been  sent  to  prison.  Their  rent 
unpaid,  their  landlord  had  evicted  them,  and  as  the 
only  shelter  they  knew  of,  they  had  gone  to  the 
hogshead.  In  Ireland,  bad  as  it  is,  the  relieving- 
officer  would  have  had  to  be  by  to  have  offered 
them  at  least  the  shelter  of  the  almshouse. 

These  Irish  men  and  women  who  are  being 
dumped  on  our  wharves  with  two  or  three  dollars 
in  their  pockets,  do  they  find  access  to  nature  any 
freer  here  than  there  ?  Far  out  in  the  West,  if  they 
know  where  to  go,  and  can  get  there,  they  may,  for 
a  little  while  yet ;  but  though  they  may  see  even 
around  New  York  plenty  of  unused  land,  they 
will  find  that  it  all  belongs  to  somebody.  Let 
them  go  to  work  at  what  they  will,  they  must,  here 
as  there,  give  up  some  of  their  earnings  for  tUe 
privilege  of  working,  and  pay  some  other  human 
creature  for  the  privilege  of  living.  On  the  whole 
their  chances  will  be  better  here  than  there,  for  this 
is  yet  a  new  country,  and  a  century  ago  our  settle- 
ments only  fringed  the  eastarn  seaboard  of  a  vast 
continent.  But  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  we 
already  have  our  human  garbage,  the  volume  of 
which  some  of  this  Irish  human  garbage  will  cer- 


162  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

taiiily  go  to  swell.  Wherever  you  go  throughout 
the  country  the  "tramp"  is  known;  and  in  this 
metropolitan  city  there  are  already,  it  is  stated  by 
the  Charity  Organization  Society,  a  quarter  of  a 
million  people  who  live  on  alms  !  Wliat,  in  a  few 
years  more,  are  we  to  do  for  a  dumping-ground  ? 
Will  it  make  our  difficulty  the  less  that  our  human 
garbage  can  vote  ? 


CHAPTER  Til. 

OVER-PRODUCTION. 

That,  as  declared  by  the  French  Assembly,  public 
misfortunes  and  corruptions  of  government  spring 
from  ignorance,  neglect  or  contempt  of  human 
rights  may  be  seen  from  whatever  point  we  look. 

Consider  this  matter  of  "over-production"  of 
which  we  hear  so  much — to  which  is  so  commonly 
attributed  dullness  of  trade  and  the  difficulty  of 
finding  employment.  What,  when  we  come  to 
think  of  it,  can  be  more  preposterous  than  to 
speak  in  any  general  sense  of  over-production? 
Over-production  of  wealth  when  there  is  every- 
where a  passionate  struggle  for  more  wealth ; 
when  so  many  must  stint  and  strain  and  contrive,  to 
get  a  living ;  when  there  is  poverty  and  actual  want 
among  large  classes !  Manifestly  there  cannot  be 
over-production,  in  any  general  and  absolute  sense, 
until  desires  for  wealth  are  all  satisfied;  until  no 
one  wants  more  wealth. 

Relative  over-production,  of  course,  there  may  be. 
The  production  of  certain  commodities  may  be  so  far 
in  excess  of  the  proper  proportion  to  the  production 
of  other  commodities  that  the  whole  quantity  pro- 
duced cannot  be  exchanged  for  enough  of  those  other 

163 


164  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

commodities  to  give  the  usual  returns  to  the  labor 
and  capital  engaged  in  bringing  them  to  market. 
But  this  relative  over-production  is  merely  dispro- 
portionate production.  It  may  proceed  from  in- 
creased production  of  things  of  one  kind,  or  from 
decreased  production  of  things  of  other  kinds. 

Thus,  what  we  would  call  an  over-production  of 
watches — meaning  not  that  more  watches  had  been 
produced  than  were  wanted,  but  that  more  had 
been  produced  than  could  be  sold  at  a  remuner- 
ative price — would  be  purely  relative.  It  might 
arise  from  an  increase  in  the  production  of  watches, 
outrunning  the  ability  to  purchase  watches ;  or  from  a 
decrease  in  the  production  of  other  things,  lessening 
the  ability  to  purchase  watches.  No  matter  how 
much  the  production  of  watches  were  to  increase, 
within  the  limits  of  the  desire  for  watches,  it  would 
not  be  over-production,  if  at  the  same  time  the  produc- 
tion of  other  things  increased  sufficiently  to  allow  a 
proportionally  increased  quantity  of  other  things  to 
be  given  for  the  increased  quantity  of  watches.  And 
no  matter  how  much  the  production  of  watches 
might  be  decreased,  there  would  be  relative  over- 
production, if  at  the  same  time  the  production  of 
other  things  were  decreased  in  such  proportion  as 
to  diminish  in  greater  degree  the  ability  to  give 
other  things  for  watches. 

In  short,  desire  continuing,  the  over-production 
of  particular  commodities  can  only  be  relative  to 


OVER-PRODUCTION.  165 

the  production  of  other  commodities,  and  may  result 
from  unduly  increased  production  in  some  branches 
of  industry,  or  from  the  checking  of  production  in 
other  branches.  But  while  the  phenomena  of  over- 
production may  thus  arise  from  causes  directly 
operating  to  increase  production,  or  from  causes 
directly  operating  to  check  production,  just  as  the 
equipoise  of  a  pair  of  scales  may  be  disturbed 
by  the  addition  or  the  removal  of  a  weight,  there 
are  certain  symptoms  by  which  we  may  determine 
.from  which  of  these  two  kinds  of  causes  any  dis- 
turbance proceeds.  For  while  to  a  limited  extent, 
and  in  a  limited  field,  these  diverse  causes  may 
produce  similar  effects,  their  general  effects  will  be 
widely  different.  The  increase  of  production  in  any 
branch  of  industry  tends  to  the  general  increase  of 
production ;  the  checking  of  production  in  any 
branch  of  industry  tends  to  the  general  checking  of 
production. 

This  may  be  seen  from  the  different  general  effects 
which  follow  increase  or  diminution  of  production 
in  the  same  branch  of  industry.  Let  us  suppose 
that  from  the  discovery  of  new  mines,  the  improve- 
ment of  machinery,  the  breaking  up  of  combina- 
tions that  control  it,  or  any  other  cause,  there 
is  a  great  and  rapid  increase  in  the  production  of 
coal,  out  of  proportion  to  the  increase  of  other  pro- 
duction. In  a  free  market  the  price  of  coal  there- 
fore falls.      The  effect  is  to  enable  all  consumers  of 


166  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

coal  to  somewhat  increase  their  consumption  of  coal, 
and  to  sumewhat  increase  their  consumption  of 
other  things,  and  to  stimulate  production,  by  reduc- 
ing cost,  in  all  those  branches  of  industry  into 
which  the  use  of  coal  directly  or  indirectly  enters. 
Thus  the  general  effect  is  to  increase  production, 
and  to  beget  a  tendency  to  re-establish  the  equilib- 
rium between  the  production  of  coal  and  the  pro- 
duction of  other  things,  by  raising  the  aggregate 
production. 

But  let  the  coal  operators  and  syndicates,  as  they 
frequently  do,  determine  to  stop  or  reduce  the  pro- 
duction of  coal  in  order  to  raise  prices.  At  once  a 
large  body  of  men  engaged  in  producing  coal  find 
their  power  of  purchasing  cut  off  or  decreased.  Their 
demand  for  commodities  they  habitually  use  thus 
falls  off ;  demand  and  production  in  other  branches 
of  industry  are  lessened,  and  other  consumers,  in 
turn,  are  obliged  to  decrease  their  demands.  At  the 
same  time  the  enhancement  in  the  price  of  coal 
tends  to  increase  the  cost  of  production  in  all 
branches  of  industry  in  which  coal  is  used,  and  to 
diminish  the  amount  both  of  coal  and  of  other 
things  which  the  users  of  coal  can  call  for.  Thus 
the  check  to  production  is  perpetuated  through  all 
branches  of  industry,  and  when  the  re-establishment 
of  equilibrium  between  the  production  of  coal  and 
the  production  of  other  things  is  effected,  it  is 
on  a  diminished  scale  of  aggregate  production. 


OVER-PRODUCTION.  167 

All  trade,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  is  the  exchange 
of  commodities  for  commodities  —  money  being 
merely  the  measm*e  of  values  and  the  instrument 
for  conveniently  and  economically  effecting  ex- 
changes. Demand  (which  is  a  different  thing  from 
desire,  as  it  involves  purchasing  power)  is  the  ask- 
ing for  things  in  exchange  for  an  equivalent  value 
of  other  things.  Supply  is  the  offering  of  things 
in  exchange  for  an  equivalent  value  of  other  things. 
These  terms  are  therefore  relative  ;  demand  involves 
supply,  and  supply  involves  demand.  Whatever 
increases  the  quantity  of  things  offered  in  exchange 
for  other  things  at  once  increases  supply  and  aug- 
ments demand.  And,  reversely,  whatever  checks 
the  bringing  of  things  to  market  at  once  reduces 
supply  and  decreases  demand. 

Thus,  while  the  same  primary  effect  upon  the  re- 
lative supply  of  and  demand  for  any  particular  com- 
modity or  group  of  commodities  may  be  caused 
either  by  augmentation  of  the  supply  of  such 
commodities,  or  by  reduction  in  the  supply  of 
other  commodities — in  the  one  case,  the  general 
effect  will  be  to  stimulate  trade,  by  calling  out 
greater  supplies  of  other  commodities,  and  increas- 
ing aggregate  demand ;  and  in  the  other  case,  to 
depress  trade,  by  lessening  aggregate  demaHd  and 
diminishing  supply.  The  equation  of  supply  and 
demand  between  agricultural  productions  and  manu- 
factured goods  might  thus  be  altered  in  the  same 


168  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

direction  and  to  the  same  extent  bj  such  prosperous 
seasons  or  improvements  in  agriculture  as  would 
reduce  the  price  of  agricultural  productions  as 
compared  with  manufactured  goods,  or  bj  such 
restrictions  upon  the  production  or  exchange  of 
manufactured  goods  as  would  raise  their  price  as 
compared  with  agricultural  productions.  But  in  the 
one  case,  the  aggregate  produce  of  the  community 
would  be  increased.  There  would  not  only  be  an 
increase  of  agricultural  products,  but  the  increased 
demand  thus  caused  would  stimulate  the  production 
of  manufactured  goods  ;  while  this  prosperity  in 
manufacturing  industries,  by  enabling  those  en- 
gaged in  them  to  increase  their  demand  for  agricul- 
tural productions,  would  react  upon  agriculture. 
In  the  other  case,  the  aggregate  produce  would  be 
decreased.  The  increase  in  the  price  of  manufac- 
tured goods  would  compel  farmers  to  reduce  their 
demands,  and  this  would  in  turn  reduce  the  ability 
of  those  engaged  in  manufacturing  to  demand  farm 
products.  Thus  trade  would  slacken,  and  pro- 
duction be  checked  in  all  directions.  That  this  is 
so,  we  may  see  from  the  different  general  effects 
which  result  from  good  crops  and  poor  crops, 
though  to  an  individual  farmer  high  prices  may  com- 
pensate for  a  poor  yield. 

To  recapitulate :  Relative  over-production  may 
proceed  from  causes  which  increase,  or  from  causes 
which  diminish,  production.     But  increased  produc- 


OVER  -  PRODUCTION.  1 69 

tion  in  any  branch  of  industry  tends  to  increase 
production  in  all  ;  to  stimulate  trade  and  augment 
the  general  prosperity ;  and  any  disturbance  of 
equilibrium  thus  caused  must  be  speedily  read- 
justed. Diminished  production  in  any  branch  of 
industry,  on  the  other  hand,  tends  to  decrease 
production  in  all ;  to  depress  trade,  and  lessen  the 
general  prosperity  ;  and  depression  thus  produced 
tends  to  perpetuate  itself  through  larger  circles, 
as  in  one  branch  of  industry  after  another  the  check 
to  production  reduces  the  power  to  demand  tlie 
products  of  other  branches  of  industry. 

Whoever  will  consider  the  widespread  phenomena 
which  are  currently  attributed  to  over-production 
can  have  no  doubt  from  which  of  these  two  classes 
of  causes  they  spring.  He  will  see  that  they  are 
symptoms,  not  of  the  excess  of  production,  but  of 
the  restriction  and  strangulation  of  production. 

There  are  with  us  many  restrictions  of  production, 
direct  and  indirect ;  for  production,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, involves  the  transportation  and  ex- 
change as  well  as  the  making  of  things.  And 
restrictions  imposed  upon  commerce  or  any  of  its 
instruments  may  operate  to  discourage  production 
as  fully  as  restrictions  imposed  upon  agriculture  or 
manufactures.  Tlie  tariff  which  we  maintain  for 
the  express  purpose  of  hampering  our  foreign  com- 
merce, and  restricting  the  free  exchange  of  our  own 
productions  for  the  productions  of  other  nations,  is 


170  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

in  effect  a  restriction  upon  production.  The  monop- 
olies which  we  have  created  or  permitted  to  grow 
up,  and  which  levy  their  toll  upon  internal  com- 
merce, or  by  conspiracy  and  combination  diminish 
supply,  and  artificially  enhance  prices,  restrict  pro- 
duction in  the  same  way  ;  while  the  taxes  levied 
upon  certain  manufactures  by  our  internal  revenue 
system  directly  restrict  production.* 

So,  too,  is  production  discouraged  by  the  direct 
taxes  levied  by  our  states,  counties  and  municipali- 
ties, which  in  the  aggregate  exceed  the  taxation 
of  the  Federal  government.  These  taxes  are  gener- 
ally levied  upon  all  property,  real  and  personal,  at 
the  same  rate,  and  fall  partly  on  land,  which  is  not 

*  Whether  taxes  upon  liquor  and  tobacco  can  be  defended  upon 
other  grounds  is  not  here  in  question.  What  Adam  Smith  says  upon 
this  point  may,  however,  be  worth  quoting: 

If  we  consult  experience,  the  cheapness  of  wine  seem  to  be  a  cause, 
not  of  drunkenness,  but  of  sobriety.  The  inhabitants  of  the  wine  coun- 
tries are  in  general  the  soberest  people  in  Europe ;  witness  the  Spaniards, 
the  Italians,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  southern  provinces  of  France, 
l^eople  are  seldom  guilty  of  excess  in  what  is  their  daily  fare.  Nobody 
affects  the  character  of  liberality  and  good  fellowship,  by  being  profuse 
of  a  liquor  which  is  as  cheap  as  small  beer.  On  the  contrary,  in  the  coun- 
tries which,  either  from  excessive  heat  or  cold,  produce  no  grapes,  and 
where  wine  consequently  is  dear,  and  a  rarity,  drunkenness  is  a  com- 
mon vice,  as  among  the  northern  nations,  and  all  those  who  live  between 
the  tropics— the  negroes,  for  example,  on  the  coast  of  Guinea.  When  a 
French  regiment  comes  from  some  of  the  northern  provinces  of  France, 
where  wine  is  somewhat  dear,  to  be  quartered  in  the  southern,  where  it 
is  very  cheap,  the  soldiers,  I  have  frequently  heard  it  observed,  are  at 
tirst  debauched  by  the  cheapness  and  novelty  of  good  wine ;  but  after 
a  few  months'  residence,  the  greater  part  of  them  become  as  sober  as 
the  rest  of  the  inhabitants.  Were  the  duties  upon  foreign  wines,  and 
the  excises  upon  malt,  beer,  and  ale,  to  be  taken  away  all  at  once,  it 
might,  in  the  same  manner,  occasion  in  Great  Britain  a  pretty  general 
and  temporary  drunkenness  among  the  middling  and  inferior  ranks  of 
people,  which  would  probably  be  soon  followed  by  a  permanent  and 
almost  universal  sobriety.  At  present,  drunkenness  is  by  no  means  the 
vice  of  people  of  fashio'n,  or  of  those  who  can  easily  afford  the  most 
expensive  liquors.  A  gentleman  drunk  with  ale  has  scarce  ever  been 
seen  among  us.  The  restraints  upon  the  wine  trade  in  Great  Britain, 
besides,  do  not  so  much  seem  calculated  to  hinder  the  people  from  going, 
if  I  may  say  so,  to  the  alehouse,  as  from  going  where  they  can  buy  the 
best  and  cheapest  liqiior.—  U'caltk  of  Nations,  Book  IV,  Chap.  111. 


OVER  -  PRODUCTION.  1  71 

tlie  result  of  production,  and  partly  on  things  which 
are  the  result  of  production ;  but  insomuch  as  build- 
ings and  improvements  are  not  only  thus  taxed,  but 
the  land  so  built  upon  and  improved  is  universally 
rated  at  a  much  higher  assessment,  and  generally 
at  a  very  much  higher  assessment,  than  unused 
land  of  the  same  quality,*  even  the  taxation  that  falls 
upon  land  values  largely  operates  as  a  deterrent  to 
production. 

To  produce,  to  improve,  is  thus  fraught  with  a 
penalty.  We,  in  fact,  treat  the  man  who  produces 
wealth,  or  accumulates  wealth,  as  though  he  had 
done  something  which  public  policy  calls  upon  us  to 
discourage.  If  a  house  is  erected,  or  a  steamship 
or  a  factory  is  built,  down  comes  the  tax-gatherer 
to  fine  the  men  who  have  done  such  things.  If 
a  farmer  go  upon  vacant  land,  which  is  adding 
nothing  to  the  wealth  of  the  community,  reclaim 
it,  cultivate  it,  cover  it  with  crops,  or  stock  it  with 
cattle,  we  not  only  make  him  pay  for  having  thus 
increased  wealth,  but,  as  an  additional  discourage- 
ment to  the  doing  of  such  things,  we  tax  him  very 
much  more  on  the  value  of  his  land  than  we  do  the 
man  who  holds  an  equal  piece  idle.  So,  too,  if 
a  man  saves,  our  taxes  operate  to  punish  him  for 


*This  arises  from  the  widely  spread  but  utterly  false  notion  that 
property  should  only  pay  taxes  in  proportion  to  the  income  it  yields. 
In  Great  Britain,  this  is  carried  to  such  a  pitch  of  absurdity  that  unused 
land  pays  no  taxes,  no  matter  how  valuable  it  may  be. 


172  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

his  thrift.  Thus  is  production  checked  in  every 
direction. 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  is  with  us  a  yet  greater 
check  to  production. 

If  there  be  in  this  universe  superior  intelligences 
engaged,  with  higher  powers,  in  the  study  of  its 
infinite  marvels,  who  sometimes  examine  the 
speck  we  tenant  with  such  studious  curiosity  as 
our  microscopists  watch  the  denizens  of  a  drop 
of  water,  the  manner  in  which,  in  such  a  coun- 
try as  this,  population  is  distributed,  must  great- 
ly puzzle  them.  In  our  cities  they  find  people 
packed  together  so  closely  that  they  live  over 
one  another  in  tiers ;  in  the  countrj^  they  see 
people  separated  so  widely  that  they  lose  all  the 
adv^antages  of  neighborhood.  They  see  build- 
ings going  up  in  the  outskirts  of  our  towns, 
while  much  .more  available  lots  remain  vacant. 
They  see  men  going  great  distances  to  cultivate 
land  while  there  is  yet  plenty  of  land  to  culti- 
vate in  the  localities  from  which  they  come  and 
through  which  they  pass.  And  as  these  higher 
intelligences  watch  this  process  of  settlement 
through  whatever  sort  of  microscopes  the}^  may  re- 
quire to  observe  such  creatures  as  we,  they  must 
notice  that,  for  the  most  part,  these  settlers,  instead 
of  being  attracted  by  each  other,  leave  between 
each  other  large  patches  of  unused  land.  If  there 
be   in   the   universe  any  societies  which   liave  the 


OVER  -  PRODUCTION.  1 7  3 

same  relation  to  us  as  our  learned  societies  have  to 
ants  and  animalculse,  these  phenomena  must  lead  to 
no  end  of  curious  theories. 

Take  in  imagination  such  a  bird's-eye  view  of 
the  city  of  New  York  as  might  be  had  from  a 
balloon.  The  houses  are  climbing  heavenward  — 
ten,  twelve,  even  fifteen  stories,  tier  on  tier  of  peo- 
ple, living,  one  family  above  another,  without  suf- 
ficient water,  without  sufticient  light  or  air,  without 
plaj^ground  or  breathing  space.  So  close  is  the 
building  that  the  streets  look  like  narrow  rifts  in  the 
brick  and  mortar,  and  from  street  to  street  the  solid 
blocks  stretch  until  they  almost  meet ;  in  the  newer 
districts  only  a  space  of  twenty  feet,  a  mere  crack  in 
the  masonry  through  which  at  high  noon  a  sun- 
beam can  scarcely  struggle  down,  being  left  to 
separate  the  backs  of  the  tenements  fronting  on  one 
street  from  the  backs  of  those  fronting  on  another 
street.  Yet,  around  this  city,  and  within  easy  ac- 
cess of  its  center,  there  is  plenty  of  vacant  land ; 
within  the  city  limits,  in  fact,  not  one-half  the  land 
is  built  upon  ;  and  many  blocks  of  tall  tenement 
houses  are  surrounded  by  vacant  lots.  If  the  im- 
provement of  our  telescopes  were  to  show  us  on 
another  planet,  lakes  where  the  water,  instead  of 
presenting  a  level  surface,  rufilod  only  by  the  action 
of  the  wind,  stood  up  here  and  there  in  huge 
columns,  it  could  hardly  perplex  us  more  than 
these  phenomena  must  perplex  such  extramundane 


174  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

intelligences  as  I  have  supposed.  How  is  it,  they 
may  well  speculate,  that  the  pressure  of  popula- 
tion which  piles  families,  tier  on  tier,  above  each 
other,  and  raises  such  towering  warehouses  and 
workshops,  does  not  cover  this  vacant  land  with 
buildings  and  with  homes?  Some  restraining 
cause  there  must  be  ;  but  what,  it  might  well  puzzle 
them  to  tell. 

A  South  Sea  Islander,  however —  one  of  the  old 
heathen  sort,  whom,  in  civilizing,  we  have  well  nigh 
exterminated,  might  make  a  guess.  If  one  of  their 
High  Chiefs  tabooed  a  place  or  object,  no  one  of  the 
common  sort  of  these  superstitious  savages  dare  use 
or  touch  it.  He  must  go  around  for  miles  rather 
than  set  his  feet  on  a  tabooed  path  ;  must  parch  or 
die  with  thirst  rather  than  drink  of  a  tabooed 
spring ;  must  go  hungry  though  the  fruit  of  a 
tabooed  grove  rotted  on  the  ground  before  his  eyes. 
A  South  Sea  Islander  would  say  that  this  vacant 
land  must  be  "taboo."  And  he  would  be  not 
far  from  the  truth.  This  land  is  vacant,  simply  be- 
cause it  is  cursed  by  that  form  of  the  taboo  which 
we  superstitiously  venerate  under  the  names  of 
"  private  property  "  and  '^  vested  rights." 

The  invisible  barrier  but  for  which  buildings 
would  rise  and  the  city  would  spread,  is  the  high 
price  of  land,  a  price  that  increases  the  more  cer- 
tainly it  is  seen  that  a  growing  population  needs 
the  land.     Thus  the  stronger  the  incentive  to  the 


OVER-PRODUCTION.  175 

use  of  land,  the  liiglier  the  barrier  that  arises  against 
its  use.  Tenement  houses  are  built  among  vacant 
lots  because  the  j3r:ce  that  must  be  paid  for  land 
is  so  great  that  people  who  have  not  large  means 
must  economize  their  us3  of  land  by  living  one 
family  above  another. 

While  in  all  of  our  cities  the  value  of  land, 
which  increases  not  merely  with  their  growth,  but 
with  the  expectation  of  growth,  thus  operates  to 
check  building  and  improvement,  its  effect  is  mani- 
fested through  the  country  in  a  somewhat  different 
way.  Instead  of  unduly  crowding  people  together 
it  unduly  separates  them.  The  expectation  of 
profit  from  the  rise  in  the  value  of  land  leads  those 
who  take  up  new  land,  not  to  content  themselves 
with  what  they  may  most  profitably  use,  but  to  get 
all  the  land  they  can,  even  though  they  must  let 
a  great  part  of  it  lie  idle  ;  and  large  tracts  are 
seized  upon  by  those  who  make  no  pretense  of 
using  any  part  of  it,  but  merely  calculate  to  make  a 
profit  out  of  others  who  in  time  will  be  driven 
to  use  it.  Thus  population  is  scattered,  not  only  to 
loss  of  all  the  comforts,  refinements,  pleasures  and 
stimulations  that  come  from  neighborhood,  but  to 
the  great  loss  of  productive  power.  The  extra 
cost  of  constructing  and  maintaining  roads  and  rail- 
ways, the  greater  distances  over  which  produce  and 
goods  must  be  transported,  the  difficulties  which 
separation  interposos  to  that  commerce  between  men 


176  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

winch  is  necessary  even  to  the  ruder  forms  of 
modern  production,  all  retard  and  lessen  produc- 
tion. While  just  as  the  high  value  of  land  in  and 
about  a  great  city  make  more  difficult  the  erec- 
tion of  buildings,  so  does  increase  in  the  value 
of  agricultural  land  make  improvement  difficult. 
The  higher  the  value  of  land  the  more  capital  does 
the  farmer  require  if  he  buys  outright  ;  or,  if  he 
buys  on  installments,  or  rents,  the  more  of  his 
earnings  must  he  give  up  every  year.  Men  who 
would  eagerly  improve  and  cultivate  land  could  it  be 
had  for  the  using  are  thus  turned  away  —  to  wander 
long  distances  and  waste  their  means  in  looking  for 
better  opportunities  ;  to  swell  the  ranks  of  those 
seeking  for  employment  as  wage  workers  ;  to  go 
back  to  the  cities  or  manufacturing  villages  in  the 
endeavor  to  make  a  living ;  or  to  remain  idle, 
frequently  for  long  periods,  and  sometimes  until 
they  become  utterly  demoralized  and  worse  than 
useless  tramps. 

Thus  is  production  checked  in  those  vocations 
which  form  the  foundation  for  all  others.  This 
check  to  the  production  of  some  forms  of  wealth 
lessens  demand  for  other  forms  of  wealth,  and  so  the 
effect  is  jiropagated  from  one  branch  of  industry  to 
another,  begetting  the  phenomena  that  are  spoken  of 
as  over-production,  but  which  are  primarily  due  to 
restricted  production. 

And  as  land  values  tend  to  rise,  not  merely  with 


OVER -PRODUCTION.  177 

the  growtn  of  population  and  wealth,  but  with  the 
expectation  of  that  growth,  thus  enlisting  in  push- 
ing on  the  upward  movement,  the  powerful  and 
illusive  sentiment  of  hope,  there  is  a  constant 
tendency,  especially  strong  in  rapidly  growing  coun- 
tries, to  carry  up  the  price  of  land  beyond  the  point 
at  which  labor  and  capital  can  profitably  engage  in 
production,  and  the  only  check  to  this  is  the  refusal 
of  labor  and  capital  to  so  engage.  This  tendency 
becomes  peculiarly  strong  in  recurring  periods, 
when  the  fever  of  speculation  runs  high,  and  leads 
at  length  to  a  correspondingly  general  and  sudden 
check  to  production,  which  propagating  itself  (by 
checking  demand)  through  all  branches  of  industry, 
is  the  main  cause  of  those  paroxysms  known  as 
commercial  or  industrial  depressions,  and  which  are 
marked  by  wasting  capital,  idle  labor,  stocks  of 
goods  that  cannot  be  sold  without  loss,  and  wide- 
spread want  and  suffering.  It  is  true  that  other 
restrictions  upon  the  free  play  of  productive 
forces  operate  to  promote,  intensify  and  continue 
these  dislocations  of  the  industrial  system,  but  that 
here  is  the  main  and  primary  cause  I  think  there 
can  be  no  doubt. 

And  this,  perhaps,  is  even  more  clear :  That 
from  whatever  cause  disturbance  of  industrial  and 
commercial  relations  may  originally  come,  these 
periodical  depressions  in  which  demand  and  supply 

seem  unable  to  meet  and  satisfy  each  other  could 
12 


178  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

not  become  widespread  and  persistent  did  pro- 
ductive forces  have  free  access  to  land.  Nothing 
like  general  and  protracted  congestion  of  capital  and 
labor  could  take  place  were  this  natural  vent  open. 
The  moment  symptoms  of  relative  over-production 
manifested  themselves  in  any  derivative  branch 
of  industry,  the  turning  of  capital  and  labor  toward 
those  occupations  which  extract  wealth  from  the 
soil  would  give  relief. 

Thus  may  we  see  that  those  public  misfortunes 
which  we  speak  of  as  "business  stagnation  "  and 
"hard  times,"  those  public  misfortunes  that  in 
periods  of  intensity  cause  more  loss  and  suffering 
than  great  wars,  spring  truly  from  our  ignorance 
and  contempt  of  human  rights  ;  from  our  disregard 
of  the  equal  and  inalienable  right  of  all  men  to 
freely  apply  to  nature  for  the  satisfaction  of  their 
needs,  and  to  retain  for  their  own  uses  the  full  fruits 
of  their  labor. 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

UNEMPLOYED    LABOR. 

How  contempt  of  human  rights  is  the  essential  ele- 
ment in  building  up  the  great  fortunes  whose  growth 
is  such  a  marked  feature  of  our  development,  we 
have  already  seen.  And  just  as  clearly  may  we  see 
that  from  the  same  cause  spring  poverty  and  pau- 
perism. The  tramp  is  the  complement  of  the 
millionaire. 

Consider  this  terrible  phenomenon,  the  tramp — 
an  appearance  more  menacing  to  the  republic  than 
that  of  hostile  armies  and  fleets  bent  on  destruc- 
tion. What  is  the  tramp?  In  the  beginning,  he 
is  a  man  able  to  work,  and  willing  to  work,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  his  needs  ;  but  who,  not  flnding 
opportunity  to  work  where  he  is,  starts  out  in 
quest  of  it ;  who,  failing  in  this  search,  is,  in  a  later 
stage,  driven  by  those  imperative  needs  to  beg 
or  to  steal,  and  so,  losing  self-respect,  loses  all  that 
animates  and  elevates  and  stimulates  a  man  to 
struggle  and  to  labor ;  becomes  a  vagabond  and  an 
outcast  —  a  poisonous  pariah,  avenging  on  society 
the  wrong  that  he  keenly,  but  vaguely,  feels  has 
been  done  him  by  society. 

Yet  the  tramp,   known   as  he  is  now  from  the 

179 


180  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  is  only  a  part  of  the  phenom- 
enon. Behind  him,  though  not  obtrusive,  save  in 
what  we  call  ''hard  times,"  there  is,  even  in  what 
we  now  consider  normal  times,  a  great  mass  of 
unemployed  labor  which  is  unable,  unwilling,  or 
not  yet  forced  to  tramp,  but  which  bears  to  the 
tramp  the  same  relation  that  the  submerged  part  of 
an  iceberg  does  to  that  much  smaller  part  which 
shows  above  the  surface. 

The  difficulty  which  so  many  men  who  would 
gladly  work  to  satisfy  their  needs  find  in  obtaining 
opportunity  of  doing  so,  is  so  common  as  to  oc- 
casion no  surprise,  nor,  save  when  it  becomes  par- 
ticularly intensified,  to  arouse  any  inquiry.  We  are 
so  used  to  it,  that  although  we  all  know  that  work 
is  in  itself  distasteful,  and  that  there  never  yet  was 
a  human  being  who  wanted  work  for  tlie  sake  of 
work,  we  have  got  into  the  habit  of  thinking  and 
talking  as  though  work  were  in  itself  a  boon.  So 
deeply  is  this  idea  implanted  in  the  common  mind 
that  we  maintain  a  policy  based  on  the  notion  that 
the  more  work  we  do  for  foreign  nations  and  the 
less  we  allow  them  to  do  for  us,  the  better  off  we  shall 
be ;  and  in  public  and  in  private  we  hear  men  lauded 
and  enterprises  advocated  because  they  "furnish 
employment"  ;  while  there  are  many  who,  with  more 
or  less  definiteness,  hold  the  idea  that  labor-saving 
inventions  have  operated  injuriously  by  lessening 
the  amount  of  work  to  be  done. 


UNEMPLOYED   LABOR.  181 

Manifestly,  work  is  not  an  end,  but  a  means  ; 
manifestly,  there  can  be  no  real  scarcity  of  work, 
which  is  but  the  means  of  satisfying  material  wants, 
until  human  wants  are  all  satisfied.  How,  then,  shall 
we  explain  the  obvious  facts  which  lead  men  to 
think  and  speak  as  though  work  were  in  itself  desir- 
able ? 

When  we  consider  that  labor  is  the  producer  of 
all  wealth,  the  creator  of  all  values,  is  it  not  strange 
that  labor  should  experience  difficulty  in  finding 
employment  ?  The  exchange  for  commodities  of  that 
which  gives  value  to  all  commodities,  ought  to  be 
the  most  certain  and  easy  of  exchanges.  One  wish- 
ing to  exchange  labor  for  food  or  clothing,  or  any  of 
the  manifold  things  which  labor  produces,  is  like 
one  wishing  to  exchange  gold-dust  for  coin,  cotton 
for  cloth,  or  wheat  for  flour.  Nay,  this  is  hardly  a 
parallel ;  for,  as  the  terms  upon  which  the  exchange 
of  labor  for  commodities  takes  place  are  usually 
that  the  labor  is  first  rendered,  the  man  who  off*ers 
labor  in  exchange  generally  proposes  to  produce 
and  render  value  before  value  is  returned  to  him. 

This  being  the  case,  why  is  not  the  competition 
of  employers  to  obtain  workmen  as  great  as  the 
competition  of  workmen  to  find  employment?  Why 
is  it  that  we  do  not  consider  the  man  who  does 
work  as  the  obliging  party,  rather  than  the  man 
who,  as  we  say,  furnishes  work? 

So  it  necessarily  would  be,  if  in  saying  that  labor 


182  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

is  the  producer  of  wealth,  we  stated  the  whole  case. 
But  labor  is  only  the  producer  of  wealth  in  the 
sense  of  being  the  active  factor  of  production.  For 
the  production  of  wealth,  labor  must  have  access  to 
pre-existing  substance  and  natural  forces.  Man  has 
no  power  to  bring  something  out  of  nothing.  He 
cannot  create  an  atom  of  matter  or  initiate  the 
slightest  motion.  Yast  as  are  his  powers  of  modi- 
fying matter  and  utilizing  force,  they  are  merely 
powers  of  adapting,  changing,  re-combining,  what 
previously  exists.  The  substance  of  the  hand  with 
which  I  write  these  lines,  as  of  the  paper  on  which 
I  write,  has  previously  formed  the  substance  of  other 
men  and  other  animals,  of  plants,  soils,  rocks,  at- 
mospheres, probably  of  other  worlds  and  other  sys- 
tems. And  so  of  the  force  which  impels  my  pen. 
All  we  know  of  it  is  that  it  has  acted  and  reacted 
through  what  seem  to  us  eternal  circlings,  and  ap- 
pears to  reach  this  planet  from  the  sun.  The 
destruction  of  matter  and  motion,  as  the  creation 
of  matter  and  motion,  are  to  us  unthinkable. 

In  the  human  being,  in  some  mysterious  way 
which  neither  the  researches  of  physiologists  nor  the 
speculations  of  philosophers  enable  us  to  compre- 
hend, conscious,  planning  intelligence  comes  into 
control,  for  a  limited  time  and  to  a  limited  extent, 
of  the  matter  and  motion  contained  in  the  human 
frame.  The  power  of  contracting  and  expanding 
human  muscles  is  the  initial  force  with  which  the 


UNEMPLOYED   LABOR.  183 

human  mind  acts  upon  the  material  world.  By  the 
.use  of  this  power  other  powers  are  utilized,  and  the 
forms  and  relations  of  matter  are  changed  in  ac- 
cordance with  human  desire.  But  how  great  soever 
be  the  power  of  affecting  and  using  external  nature 
which  human  intelligence  thus  obtains, — and  how 
great  this  may  be  we  are  only  beginning  now  to  re- 
alize,— it  is  still  only  the  power  of  affecting  and 
using  what  previously  exists.  Without  access  to 
external  nature,  without  the  power  of  availing  him- 
self of  her  substance  and  forces,  man  is  not  merely 
powerless  to  produce  anything,  he  ceases  to  exist  in 
the  material  world.  He  himself,  in  physical  body 
at  least,  is  but  a  changing  form  of  matter,  a  passing 
mode  of  motion,  that  must  be  continually  drawn 
from  the  reservoirs  of  external  nature. 

Without  either  of  the  three  elements,  land,  air 
and  water,  man  could  not  exist ;  but  he  is  peculiarly 
a  land  animal,  living  on  its  surface,  and  drawing 
from  it  his  supplies.  Though  he  is  able  to  navigate 
the  ocean,  and  may  some  day  be  able  to  navigate 
the  air,  he  can  only  do  so  by  availing  himself  of 
materials  drawn  from  land.  Land  is  to  him  the 
great  storehouse  of  materials  and  reservoir  of  forces 
upon  which  he  must  draw  for  his  needs.  And  as 
wealth  consists  of  materials  and  products  of  nature 
which  have  been  secured,  or  modified  by  human  ex- 
ertion so  as  to  fit  them  for  the  satisfaction  of  human 


184  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

desires,^'  labor  is  the  active  factor  in  the  production 
of  wealth,  but  land  is  the  passive  factor,  without 
which  labor  can  neither  produce  nor  exist. 

All  this  is  so  obvious  that  it  may  seem  like  wast- 
ing space  to  state  it.  Yet,  in  this  obvious  fact  lies 
the  explanation  of  that  enigma  that  to  so  man}^ 
seems  a  hopeless  puzzle — the  labor  question.  What 
is  inexplicable,  if  we  lose  sight  of  man^s  absolute  and 
constant  dependence  upon  land,  is  clear  when  we 
recognize  it. 

Let  us  suppose,  as  well  as  we  can,  human  society 
in  a  world  as  near  as  possible  like  our  own,  with  one 
essential  difference.  Let  us  suppose  this  imaginary 
world  and  its  inhabitants  so  constructed  that  men 
could  support  themselves  in  air,  and  could  from  the 
material  of  the  air  produce  by  their  labor  what  they 
needed  for  nourishment  and  use.  I  do  not  mean  to 
suppose  a  state  of  things  in  which  men  might  float 
around  like  birds  in  the  air  or  fishes  in  the  ocean, 
supplying  the  prime  necessities  of  animal  life  from 
what  they  could  pick  up.  I  am  merely  trying  to 
suppose  a  state  of  things  in  which  men  as  they  are, 
were  relieved  of  absolute  dependence  upon  land  for  a 
standing  place  and  reservoir  of  material  and  forces. 
We  will  su])pose  labor  to  be  as  necessary  as  with  us, 
human  desires  to  be  as  boundless  as  with  us,  the 

*  However  great  be  its  utility,  nothing  can  be  counted  as  wealth 
unless  it  requires  labor  for  its  production  ;  nor  however  much  labor  has 
been  required  for  its  production,  can  anything  retain  the  character  of 
wealth  longer  than  it  can  gratify  desire. 


TNEMPLOYED   LABOE.  185 

cumulative  power  of  labor  to  give  to  capital  as  much 
advantage  as  with  us,  and  the  division  of  laboi  to 
have  gone  as  far  as  with  us  —  the  only  difference 
being  (the  idea  of  claiming  the  air  as  private  prop- 
erty not  having  been  thought  of)  that  no  human 
creature  would  be  compelled  to  make  terms  with  an- 
other in  order  to  get  a  resting-place,  and  to  obtain 
access  to  the  materials  and  force  without  which 
labor  cannot  produce.  In  such  a  state  of  things, 
no  matter  how  minute  had  become  the  division 
of  labor,  no  matter  how  great  had  become  the  ac- 
cumulation of  capital,  or  how  far  labor-saving  in- 
ventions had  been  carried, —  there  could  never  be 
anything  that  seemed  like  an  excess  of  the  supply  of 
labor  over  tlie  demand  for  labor ;  there  could  never 
beany  difficulty  in  finding  employment;  and  tlie 
spectacle  of  willing  men,  having  in  their  own 
brains  and  muscles  the  power  of  supplying  the  needs 
of  themselves  and  their  families,  yet  compelled  to 
beg  for  work  or  for  alms,  could  never  be  witnessed. 
It  being  in  the  power  of  every  one  able  to  labor 
to  apply  his  labor  directly  to  the  satisfaction  of  his 
needs  without  asking  leave  of  any  one  else,  that 
cut-throat  competition,  in  which  men  who  must  find 
employment  or  starve  are  forced  to  bid  against  each 
other  could  never  arise. 

Yariations  there  might  be  in  the  demand  for  par- 
ticular commodities  or  services,  wliicli  would  pro- 
duce variations  in  the  demand  for  labor  in  different 


186  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

occupations,  and  cause  wages  in  those  occupations 
to  somewhat  rise  above  or  fall  below  th'e  general 
level,  but  the  ability  of  labor  to  employ  itself,  the 
freedom  of  indefinite  expansion  in  the  primary 
employments,  would  allow  labor  to  accommodate 
itself  to  these  variations,  not  merely  without  loss  or 
suffering,  but  so  easily  that  they  would  be  scarcely 
noticed.  For  occupations  shade  into  one  another  by 
imperceptible  degrees,  no  matter  how  minute  the 
division  of  labor  —  or,  rather,  the  more  minute  the 
division  of  labor  the  more  insensible  the  gradation 
—  so  that  ttiere  are  in  each  occupation  enough  who 
could  easily  pass  to  other  occupations,  to  readily 
allow  of  such  contractions  and  expansions  as  might 
in  a  state  of  freedom  occur.  The  possibility  of 
indefinite  expansion  in  the  primary  occupations,  the 
ability  of  every  one  to  make  a  living  by  resort  to 
them  would  produce  elasticity  throughout  the  whole 
industrial  system. 

Under  such  conditions  capital  could  not  oppress 
labor.  At  present,  in  any  dispute  between  capital 
and  labor,  capital  enjoys  the  enormous  advantage 
of  being  better  able  to  wait.  Capital  wastes  when 
not  employed  ;  but  labor  starves.  Where,  however, 
labor  could  always  employ  itself,  the  disadvantage 
in  any  conflict  would  be  on  the  side  of  capital,  while 
that  surplus  of  unemployed  labor  which  enables 
capital  to  make  such  advantageous  bargains  with 
labor  would  not  exist.     The  man  who  wanted  to 


UNEMPLOYED    LABOR.  187 

get  others  to  work  for  him  would  not  find  men 
crowding  for  emplo3'ment,  but,  finding  all  labor 
already  employed,  would  have  to  ofier  higher  wages, 
in  order  to  tempt  them  into  his  employment,  than 
the  men  he  wanted  could  make  for  themselves.  The 
competition  would  be  that  of  employers  to  obtain 
workmen,  rather  than  that  of  workmen  to  get 
employment,  and  thus  the  advantages  which  the 
accumulation  of  capital  gives  in  the  production  of 
wealth  would  ( save  enough  to  secure  the  accumula- 
tion and  employment  of  capital)  go  ultimately  to 
labor.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  instead  of  think- 
ing that  the  man  who  employed  another  was  doing 
him  a  favor,  we  would  rather  look  upon  the  man 
who  went  to  work  for  another  as  the  obliging  party. 
To  suppose  that  under  such  conditions  there  could 
be  such  inequality  in  the  distribution  of  wealth  as 
we  now  see,  would  require  a  more  violent  presump- 
tion than  we  have  made  in  supposing  air,  instead  of 
land,  to  be  the  element  from  which  wealth  is  chiefly 
derived.  But  supposing  existing  inequalities  to  be 
translated  into  such  a  state,  it  is  evident  that  large 
fortunes  could  avail  little,  and  continue  but  a  short 
time.  Where  there  is  always  labor  seeking  employ- 
ment on  any  terms  ;  where  the  masses  earn  only 
a  bare  living,  and  dismissal  from  employment 
means  anxiety  and  privation,  and  even  beggary  or 
starvation,  these  large  fortunes  have  monstrous 
power.     But  in  a  condition  of  things  where  there 


188  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

was  no  unemployed  labor,  where  every  one  could 
make  a  living  for  himself  and  family  without  fear  or 
favor,  what  could  a  hundred  or  five  hundred 
millions  avail  in  the  way  of  enabling  its  possessor 
to  extort  or  tyrannize  ? 

The  upper  millstone  alone  cannot  grind.  That  it 
may  do  so,  the  nether  millstone  as  well  is  needed. 
No  amount  of  force  will  break  an  eggshell  if  exerted 
on  one  side  alone.  So  capital  could  not  squeeze 
labor  as  long,  as  labor  was  free  to  natural  oppor- 
tunities, and  in  a  world  where  these  natural 
materials  and  opportunities  were  as  free  to  all  as  is 
the  air  to  us,  there  could  be  no  difficulty  in  finding 
employment,  no  willing  hands  conjoined  with 
hungry  stomachs,  no  tendency  of  wages  toward 
the  minimum  on  which  the  worker  could  barely 
live.  In  such  a  world  we  would  no  more  think  of 
thanking  anybody  for  furnishing  us  employment 
than  we  here  think  of  thanking  anybody  for  furnish- 
ing us  with  appetites. 

That  the  Creator  might  have  put  us  in  the  kind 
of  world  I  have  sought  to  imagine,  as  readily  as  in 
this  kind  of  a  world,  I  have  no  doubt.  Why  He  has 
not  done  so  may,  however,  I  think,  be  seen.  That 
kind  of  a  world  would  be  best  for  fools.  This  is 
the  best  for  men  who  will  use  the  intelligence  with 
which  they  have  been  gifted.  Of  this,  however,  I 
shall  speak  hereafter.  What  I  am  now  trying  to  do 
by   asking  my  readers  to  endeavor  to  imagine  a 


UNEMPLOYED   LABOR.  189 

world  in  which  natural  opportunities  were  as  ' '  free 
as  air,"  is  to  show  that  the  barriers  which  prevent 
labor  from  freely  using  land  is  the  nether  millstone 
against  which  labor  is  ground,  the  true  cause  of  the 
difficulties  which  are  apparent  through  the  whole 
industrial  organization. 

But  it  may  be  said,  as  I  have  often  heard  it  said, 
"  We  do  not  all  want  land  !  We  cannot  all  become 
farmers ! " 

To  this  I  reply  that  we  do  all  want  land,  though 
it  may  be  in  different  ways  and  in  varying  degrees. 
Without  land  no  human  being  can  live ;  without 
land  no  human  occupation  can  be  carried  on.  Agri- 
culture is  not  the  only  use  of  land.  It  is  only  one 
of  many.  And  just  as  the  uppermost  story  of  the 
tallest  building  rests  upon  land  as  truly  as  the 
lowest,  so  is  the  operative  as  truly  a  user  of  land  as 
is  the  farmer.  As  all  wealth  is  in  the  last  analysis 
the  resultant  of  land  and  labor,  so  is  all  production 
in  the  last  analysis  the  expenditure  of  labor  upon 
land. 

Nor  is  it  true  that  we  could  not  all  become 
farmers.  That  is  the  one  thing  that  we  might  all 
become.  If  all  men  were  merchants,  or  tailors,  or 
mechanics,  all  men  would  soon  starve.  But  there 
have  been,  ai]d  still  exist,  societies  in  which  all  get 
their  living  directly  from  nature.  The  occupations 
that  resort  directly  to  nature  are  the  primitive  occu- 
pations, from  which,  as  society  progresses,  all  others 


190  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

are  differentiated.  No  matter  how  complex  the 
industrial  organization,  these  must  always  remain 
the  fundamental  occupations,  upon  which  all  other 
occupations  rest,  just  as  the  upper  stories  of  a  build- 
ing rest  upon  the  foundation.  Now,  as  ever,  "the 
farmer feedeth  all."  And  necessarily,  the  condition 
of  labor  in  these  first  and  widest  of  occupations, 
determines  the  general  condition  of  labor,  just  as  the 
level  of  the  ocean  determines  the  level  of  all  its  arms 
and  bays  and  seas.  Where  there  is  a  great  demand 
for  labor  in  agriculture,  and  wages  are  high,  there 
must  soon  be  a  great  demand  for  labor,  and  high 
wages,  in  all  occupations.  Where  it  is  difficult  to 
get  employment  in  agriculture,  and  wages  are  low, 
there  must  soon  be  a  difficulty  of  obtaining  em- 
ployment, and  low  wages,  in  all  occupations.  Now, 
what  determines  the  demand  for  labor  and  the  rate 
of  wages  in  agriculture  is  manifestly  the  ability  of 
labor  to  employ  itself — that  is  to  say,  the  ease  with 
which  land  can  be  obtained.  This  is  the  reason  that 
in  new  countries,  where  land  is  easily  had,  wages, 
not  merely  in  agriculture,  but  in  all  occupations,  are 
higher  than  in  older  countries,  where  land  is  hard 
to  get.  And  thus  it  is  that,  as  the  value  of  land  in- 
creases, wages  fall,  and  the  difficulty  in  finding 
employment  arises. 

This  whoever  will  may  see  by  merely  looking 
around  him.  Clearly  the  difficulty  of  finding  em- 
ployment, the  fact  that  in  all  vocations,  as  a  rule, 


UNEMPLOYED    LABOR.  191 

the  supply  of  labor  seems  to  exceed  the  demand 
for  labor,  springs  from  difficulties  that  prevent  labor 
finding  employment  for  itself — from  the  barriers 
that  fence  labor  oif  of  land.  That  there  is  a  surplus 
of  labor  in  any  one  occupation  arises  from  the  diffi- 
culty of  finding  employment  in  other  occupations, 
but  for  which  the  surplus  would  be  immediately, 
drained  off".  When  there  was  a  great  demand  for 
clerks  no  bookkeeper  could  sufi'er  for  want  of  eni- 
ph)yment.  And  so  on,  down  to  the  fundamental 
employments  which  directly  extract  wealth  from 
land,  the  opening  in  which  of  opportunities  for 
labor  to  employ  itself  would  soon  drain  ofi"  any 
surplus  in  derivative  occupations.  Kot  that  every 
unemployed  mechanic,  or  operative,  or  clerk,  could 
or  would  get  himself  a  farm  ;  but  that  from  all  the 
various  occupations  enough  would  betake  themselves 
to  the  land  to  relieve  any  pressure  for  employment. 


CHAPTER   XIY. 

THE   EFFECTS    OF    MACHINERY. 

How  ignorance,  neglect  or  contempt  of  human 
rights  may  turn  public  benefits  into  public  misfor- 
tunes we  may  clearly  see  if  we  trace  the  effect  of 
labor-saving  inventions. 

It  is  not  altogether  from  a  blind  dislike  of  inno- 
vation that  even  the  more  thoughtful  and  intelligent 
Chinese  set  their  faces  against  the  introduction  into 
their  dense  population  of  the  labor-saving  m^achi- 
nery  of  Western  civilization.  They  recognize  the 
superiority  which  in  many  things  invention  has 
given  us,  but  to  their  view  this  superiority  must 
ultimately  be  paid  for  with  too  high  a  price.  Tlie 
Eastern  mind,  in  fact,  regards  the  greater  powers 
grasped  by  Western  civilization  somewhat  as  the 
mediaeval  European  mind  regarded  the  powers  which 
it  believed  might  be  gained  by  the  Black  Art,  but 
for  which  the  user  must  finally  pay  in  destruction  of 
body  and  damnation  of  soul.  And  there  is  much 
in  the  present  aspects  and  tendencies  of  our  civili- 
zation to  confirm  the  Chinese  in  this  view. 

It  is  clear  that  the  inventions  and  discoveries 
which  during  this  century  have  so  enormously  in- 
creased  the  power  of  producing  wealth  have  not 

192 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  MACHINERY.         193 

proved  an  unmixed  good.  Their  benefits  are  not 
merely  unequally  distributed,  but  they  are  bringing 
about  absolutely  injurious  effects.  They  are  concen- 
trating capital,  and  increasing  the  power  of  these 
concentrations  to  monopolize  and  oppress  ;  are  ren- 
dering the  workman  more  dependent ;  depriving 
him  of  the  advantages  of  skill  and  of  opportunities 
to  acquire  it ;  lessening  his  control  over  his  own  con- 
dition and  his  hope  of  improving  it ;  cramping  his 
mind,  and  in  many  cases  distorting  and  enervating 
his  body. 

It  seems  to  me  impossible  to  consider  the  present 
tendencies  of  our  industrial  development  without 
feeling  that  if  there  be  no  escape  from  them,  the 
Chinese  philosophers  are  right,  and  that  the  powers 
we  have  called  into  our  service  must  ultimately  de- 
stroy us.  We  are  reducing  the  cost  of  production ; 
but  in  doing  so,  are  stunting  children,  and  unfitting 
women  for  the  duties  of  maternity,  and  degrading 
men  into  the  position  of  mere  feeders  of  machines. 
We  are  not  lessening  the  fierceness  of  the  struggle 
for  existence.  Though  we  work  with  an  intensity 
and  application  that  with  the  great  majority  of  us 
leaves  time  and  power  for  little  else,  we  have  in- 
creased, not  decreased,  the  anxieties  of  life.  Insan- 
ity is  increasing,  suicide  is  increasing,  the  disposi- 
tion to  shun  marriage  is  increasing.  We  are 
developing   on   the   one  side,   enormous  fortunes, 

but  on  the  other  side,   utter  pariahs.      These  are 
13 


194  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

symptoms  of  disease  for  which  no  gains  can  com- 
pensate. 

Yet  it  is  manifestly  wrong  to  attribute  either 
necessary  good  or  necessary  evil  to  the  improve- 
ments and  inventions  which  are  so  changing  indus- 
trial and  social  relations.  They  simply  increase 
power — and  power  may  work  either  good  or  evil  as 
intelligence  controls  or  fails  to  control  it. 

Let  us  consider  the  effects  of  the  introduction  of 
labor-saving  machinery — or  rather,  of  all  discoveries, 
inventions  and  improvements,  that  increase  the 
produce  a  given  amount  of  labor  can  obtain: 

In  that  primitive  state  in  which  the  labor  of  each 
family  supplies  its  wants,  any  invention  or  discovery 
which  increases  the  power  of  supplying  one  of  these 
wants  will  increase  the  power  of  supplying  all,  since 
the  labor  saved  in  one  direction  may  be  expended  in 
other  directions. 

When  division  of  labor  has  taken  place,  and 
different  parts  in  production  are  taken  Dy  different 
individuals,  the  gain  obtained  by  any  labor-saving 
improvement  in  one  branch  of  production  will,  in 
like  manner,  be  averaged  with  all.  If,  for  instance, 
improvements  be  made  in  the  weaving  of  cloth 
and  the  working  of  iron,  the  effect  will  be  that 
a  bushel  of  grain  will  exchange  for  more  cloth  and 
more  iron,  and  thus  the  farmer  will  be  enabled  to 
obtain  the  same  quantity  of  all  the  things  he  wants 
with  less  labor,  or  a   somewhat  greater   quantity 


THE    EFFECTS    OF    MACHINERY.  195 

with  the   same    labor.      And    so   with    all    other 
producers. 

Even  when  the  improvement  is  kept  a  secret,  or 
the  inventor  is  protected  for  a  time  by  a  patent,  it  is 
only  in  part  that  the  benefit  can  be  retained.  It  is 
the  general  characteristic  of  labor-saving  improve- 
ments, after  at  least  a  certain  stage  in  the  arts  is 
reached,  that  the  production  of  larger  quantities 
is  necessary  to  secure  the  economy.  And  those 
who  have  the  monopoly,  are  impelled  by  their 
desire  for  the  largest  profit  to  produce  more  at  a 
lower  price,  rather  than  to  produce  the  same 
quantity  at  the  previous  price,  thus  enabling  the 
producers  of  other  things  to  obtain  for  less  labor 
the  particular  things  in  the  production  of  which 
the  saving  has  been  effected,  and  thus  dififusing 
part  of  the  benefit,  and  generally  the  largest  part, 
over  the  whole  field  of  industry. 

In  this  way  all  labor-saving  inventions  tend  to 
increase  the  productive  power  of  all  labor,  and, 
except  in  so  far  as  they  are  monopolized,  their  whole 
benefit  is  thus  diffused.  For,  if  in  one  occupation 
labor  become  more  ])rofitable  than  in  others,  labor 
is  drawn  to  it  until  the  net  average  in  difterent  occu- 
pations is  restored.  And  so,  where  not  artificially 
prevented,  does  the  same  tendency  bring  to  a  com- 
mon level  the  earnings  of  capital.  The  direct  effect 
of  improvements  and  inventions  which  add  to 
productive  power  is,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  always  to 


196  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

increase  the  earnings  of  labor,  never  to  increase  the 
earnings  of  capitaL  The  advantage,  even  in  such 
improvements  as  may  seem  primarily  to  be  rather 
capital-saving  than  labor-saving  —  as,  for  instance, 
an  invention  which  lessens  the  time  required  for  the 
tanning  of  hides — becomes  a  property  and  advantage 
of  labor.  The  reason  is,  not  to  go  into  a  more 
elaborate  explanation,  that  labor  is  the  active  factor 
in  production.  Capital  is  merely  its  tool  and  instru- 
ment. The  great  gains  made  by  particular  capital- 
ists in  the  utilization  of  improvements,  are  not 
the  gains  of  capital,  but  generally  the  gains  of 
monopoly,  though  sometimes  they  may  be  gains  of 
adventure  or  of  management.  The  rate  of  interest, 
which  is  the  measure  of  the  earnings  of  capital,  has 
not  increased  with  all  the  enormous  labor-saving 
improvements  of  our  century;  on  the  contrary,  its 
tendency  has  been  to  diminish.  But  the  re- 
quirement of  larger  amounts  of  capital,  which  is 
generally  characteristic  of  labor-saving  improve- 
ments, may  increase  the  facility  with  which  those 
who  have  large  capitals  can  establish  monopolies 
that  enable  them  to  intercept  what  would  naturally 
go  to  labor.  This,  however,  is  an  effect,  rather 
than  a  cause,  of  the  failure  of  labor  to  get  the 
benefit  of  improvements  in  production. 

For  tlie  cause  we  must  go  further.  While 
labor-saving  improvements  increase  the  power 
of  labor,  no  improvement  or  invention  can  release 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  MACHINERY.         197 

labor  from  its  dependence  upon  land.  Labor- 
saving  improvements  only  increase  the  power  of 
producing  wealth  from  land.  And  land  being  mo- 
nopolized as  the  private  property  of  certain  persons, 
who  can  thus  prevent  others  from  using  it,  all 
these  gains,  which  accrue  primarily  to  labor,  can 
be  demanded  from  labor  by  the  owners  of  land,  in 
higher  rents  and  higher  prices.  Thus,  as  we  see  it, 
the  march  of  improvement  and  invention  has  in- 
creased neither  interest  nor  wages,  but  its  general 
effect  has  everywhere  been  to  increase  the  value  of 
land.  Where  increase  of  wages  has  been  won,  it 
has  been  by  combination,  or  the  concurrence  of 
special  causes;  but  what  of  the  increased  productive- 
ness which  primarily  attaches  to  labor  has  been 
thus  secured  by  labor  is  comparatively  trivial. 
Some  part  of  it  has  gone  to  various  other  monopo- 
lies, but  the  great  bulk  has  gone  to  the  monopoly  of 
the  soil,  has  increased  ground-rents  and  raised  the 
value  of  land. 

The  railroad,  for  instance,  is  a  great  labor-saving 
invention.  It  does  not  increase  the  quantity  of 
grain  which  the  farmer  can  raise,  nor  the  quantity 
of  goods  which  the  manufacturer  can  turn  out ; 
but  by  reducing  the  cost  of  transportation  it  in- 
creases the  quantity  of  all  the  various  things  which 
can  be  obtained  in  exchange  for  produce  of  either 
kind  ;   which  practically  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 

These  gains  primarily  accrue  to  labor  ;  that  is  to 


198  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

say,  the  advantage  given  by  the  raih^oad  in  the  dis- 
trict wliich  it  affects,  is  to  save  labor ;  to  enable  the 
same  labor  to  procure  more  wealth.  But  as  we  see 
where  railroads  are  built,  it  is  not  labor  that  secures 
the  gain.  The  railroad  being  a  monopoly  —  and  in 
the  United  States,  a  practically  unrestricted  monop- 
oly —  as  large  a  portion  as  possible  of  these  gains, 
over  and  above  the  fair  returns  on  the  capital  in- 
vested, is  intercepted  by  the  managers,  who  by 
fictitious  costs,  watered  stock,  and  in  various  other 
ways,  thinly  disguise  their  levies,  and  who  gen- 
erally rob  the  stockholders  while  they  fleece  the 
public.  The  rest  of  the  gain  —  the  advantage  which, 
after  these  deductions,  accrues  to  labor,  is  inter- 
cepted by  the  monopolists  of  land.  As  the  produc- 
tiveness of  labor  is  increased,  or  even  as  there  is  a 
promise  of  its  increase,  so  does  the  value  of  land 
increase,  and  labor,  having  to  pay  proportionately 
more  for  land,  is  shorn  of  all  the  benefit.  Taught 
by  experience,  when  a  railroad  opens  a  new  district 
we  do  not  expect  wages  to  increase ;  what  we  expect 
to  increase  is  the  value  of  land. 

The  elevated  railroads  of  New  York  are  great 
labor-saving  machines,  which  have  greatly  reduced 
the  time  and  labor  necessary  to  take  people  from 
one  end  of  the  city  to  the  other.  They  have  made 
accessible  to  the  over-crowded  population  of  the 
lower  part  of  the  island,  the  vacant  spaces  at  the 
upper.     But  they  have  not  added  to  the  earnings  of 


THE    EFFECTS    OF    MACHINERY.  199 

labor,  nor  made  it  easier  for  the  mere  laborer  to 
live.  Some  portion  of  the  gain  has  been  inter- 
cepted by  Mr.  Cyrus  Field,  Mr.  Samuel  J.  Tilden, 
Mr.  Jay  Gould,  and  other  managers  and  manipula- 
tors. Over  and  above  this,  the  advantage  has  gone 
to  the  owners  of  land.  The  reduction  in  the  time 
and  cost  of  transportation  has  made  much  vacant 
land  accessible  to  an  overcrowded  population,  but 
as  this  land  has  been  made  accessible,  so  has  its 
valne  risen,  and  the  tenement-house  population  is 
as  crowded  as  ever.  The  managers  of  the  roads 
have  gained  some  millions ;  the  owners  of  the  land 
affected,  some  hundreds  of  millions ;  but  the  work- 
ing classes  of  J^ew  York  are  no  better  off.  What 
they  gain  in  improved  transportation  they  must 
pay  in  increased  rent. 

And  so  would  it  be  with  any  improvement  or 
material  benefaction.  Supposing  the  very  rich  men 
of  New  York  were  to  become  suddenly  imbued  with 
that  public  spirit  which  shows  itself  in  the  Astor 
Library  and  the  Cooper  Institute,  and  that  it  should 
become  among  them  a  passion,  leading  them  even 
to  beggar  themselves  in  the  emulation  to  benefit 
their  fellow  citizens.  Supposing  such  a  man  as 
Mr.  Gould  were  to  make  the  elevated  roads  free, 
were  to  assume  the  cost  of  the  Fire  Department,  and 
give  every  house  a  free  telephone  connection  ;  and 
Mr.  Yanderbilt,  not  to  be  outdone,  were  to  assume 
the  cost  of  putting  down  good  pavements,  and  clean- 


200  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

ing  the  streets,  and  running  the  horse  cars  for  noth- 
ing ;  while  the  Astors  were  to  build  libraries  in  every 
ward.  Supposing  the  fifty,  twenty,  ten,  and  still 
smaller  millionaires,  seized  by  the  same  passion, 
were  singly  or  together,  at  their  own  cost,  to  bring 
in  plentiful  supplies  of  water  ;  to  furnish  heat,  light 
and  power  free  of  charge ;  to  improve  and  maintain 
the  schools ;  to  open  theaters  and  concerts  to  the 
public ;  to  establish  public  gardens  and  baths  and 
markets ;  to  open  stores  where  everything  could  be 
bought  at  retail  for  the  lowest  wholesale  price  ; — in 
short,  were  to  do  everything  that  could  be  done  to 
make  New  York  a  cheap  and  pleasant  place  to  live 
in  ?  The  result  would  be  that  New  York  being  so 
much  more  desirable  a  place  to  live  in,  more 
people  would  desire  to  live  in  it,  and  the  land 
owners  could  charge  so  much  the  more  for  the 
privilege.  All  these  benefactions  would  increase  rent. 
And  so,  whatever  be  the  character  of  the  improve- 
ment, its  benefit,  land  being  monopolized,  must 
ultimately  go  to  the  owners  of  land.  Were  labor- 
saving  invention  carried  so  far  that  the  necessity 
of  labor  in  the  production  of  wealth  were  done 
away  with,  the  result  would  be  thai  the  owners 
of  land  could  command  all  the  wealth  that  could  be 
produced,  and  need  not  share  with  labor  even  what 
is  necessary  for  its  maintenance.  Were  the  powers 
and  capacities  of  land  increased,  the  gain  would  be 
that  of  landowners.      Or  were  the  improvement  to 


THE    EFFECTS    OF   MACHINERY.  201 

take  place  in  the  powers  and  capacities  of  labor,  it 
would  still  be  the  owners  of  land,  not  laborers,  who 
would  reap  the  advantage. 

For  land  being  indispensable  to  labor,  those  who 
monopolize  land  are  able  to  make  their  own  terms 
with  labor;  or  rather,  the  competition  with  each  other 
of  those  who  cannot  employ  themselves,  yet  must 
find  employment  or  starve,  will  force  wages  down 
to  the  lowest  point  at  which  the  habits  of  the  labor 
ing  class  permit  them  to  live  and  reproduce.  At 
this  point,  in  all  countries  where  land  is  fully 
monopolized,  the  wages  of  common  labor  must  rest, 
and  toward  it  all  other  wages  tend,  being  only  kept 
up  above  it  by  the  special  conditions,  artificial  or 
otherwise,  which  give  labor  in  some  occupations 
higher  wages  than  in  others.  And  so  no  improve- 
ment even  in  the  power  of  labor  itself —  whether  it 
come  from  education,  from  the  actual  increase  of 
muscular  force,  or  from  the  ability  to  do  with 
less  sleep  and  work  longer  hours  —  could  raise  the 
reward  of  labor  above  this  point.  This  we  see  in 
countries  and  in  occupations  where  the  labor  of 
women  and  children  is  called  in  to  aid  the  natural 
bread-winner  in  the  support  of  the  family.  While 
as  for  any  increase  in  economy  and  thrift,  as  soon  as 
it  became  general  it  could  only  lessen,  not  increase, 
the  reward  of  labor. 

This  is  the  "iron  law  of  wages,"  as  it  is  styled 
by  the  Germans  —  the  law  which  determines  wages 


202  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

to  the  minimum  on  which  laborers  will  consent  to 
live  and  reproduce.  It  is  recognized  by  all  econo- 
mists, though  by  most  of  them  attributed  to 
other  causes  than  the  true  one.  It  is  manifestly 
an  inevitable  result  of  making  the  land  from  which 
all  must  live  the  exclusive  property  of  some.  The 
lord  of  the  soil  is  necessarily  lord  of  the  men 
who  live  upon  it.  They  are  as  truly  and  as  fully 
his  slaves  as  though  his  ownership  in  their  flesh 
and  blood  acknowledged.  Their  competition  with 
each  other  to  obtain  from  him  the  means  of 
livelihood  must  compel  them  to  give  up  to  him  all 
their  earnings  save  the  necessary  wages  of  slavery 
—  to  wit,  enough  to  keep  them  in  working  condi- 
tion and  maintain  their  numbers.  And  as  no 
possible  increase  in  the  power  of  his  labor,  or 
reduction  in  his  expenses  of  living,  can  benefit  the 
slave,  neither  can  it,  where  land  is  monopolized, 
benefit  those  who  have  nothing  but  their  labor.  It 
can  only  increase  the  value  of  land — the  proportion 
of  the  produce  that  goes  to  the  landowner.  And 
this  being  the  case,  the  greater  employment  of 
machinery,  the  greater  division  of  labor,  the  greater 
contrasts  in  the  distribution  of  wealth,  become  to 
the  working  masses  positive  evils  —  making  their 
lot  harder  and  more  hopeless  as  material  progress 
goes  on.  Even  education  adds  but  to  the  capacity  ' 
for  suffering.  If  the  slave  must  continue  to  be  a 
slave,  it  is  cruelty  to  educate  him. 


THE    EFFECTS    OF    MACHINERY.  203 

All  this  we  may  not  jet  fully  realize,  because  the 
industrial  revolution  which  began  with  the  intro- 
duction of  steam,  is  as  yet  in  its  first  stages,  while 
up  to  this  time  the  overrunning  of  a  new 
continent  has  reduced  social  pressure,  not  merely 
here,  but  even  in  Europe.  But  the  new  continent 
is  rapidly  being  fenced  in,  and  the  industrial  revolu- 
tion goes  on  faster  and  faster. 


CHAPTER  XY. 


SLAVERY    AND    SLAVERY. 


I  MUST  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  carry  on  in  other 
directions,  if  he  choose,  such  inquiries  as  those  to 
which  the  last  three  chapters  liave  been  devoted.* 
The  more  carefully  he  examines,  the  more  fully  will 
he  see  that  at  the  root  of  every  social  problem  lies 
a  social  wrong,  that  "ignorance,  neglect  or  con- 
tempt of  human  rights  are  the  causes  of  public  mis- 
fortunes and  corruptions  of  government,"  Yet,  in 
truth,  no  elaborate  examination  is  necessary.  To 
understand  why  material  progress  does  not  benefit 
the  masses  requires  but  a  recognition  of  the  self- 
evident  truth  that  man  cannot  live  without  land  ; 
that  it  is  only  on  land  and  from  land  that  human 
labor  can  produce. 

Robinson  Crusoe,  as  we  all  know,  took  Friday  as 
his  slave.  Suppose,  however,  that  instead  of  taking 
Friday  as  his  slave,  Robinson  Crusoe  had  wel- 
comed him  as  a  man  and  a  brother  ;  had  read  him 
a  Declaration  of  Independence,  an  Emancipation 
Proclamation    and   a   Fifteenth   Amendment,    and 


*  They  are  pursued  in  more  regular  and  scientific  form  in  my 
"Progress  and  Poverty,"  a  book  to  which  I  must  refer  the  reader  for  a 
more  elaborate  discussion  of  economic  questions. 

204     . 


SLAVERY    AND    SLAVERY.  205 

informed  liirn  that  lie  was  a  free  and  inde23end- 
ent  citizen,  entitled  to  vote  and  liold  office  ;  but 
had  at  the  same  time  also  informed  him  that  that 
particular  island  was  his  (Robinson  Crusoe's)  pri- 
vate and  exclusive  property.  What  would  have 
been  the  difference?  Since  Friday  could  not  fly  up 
into  the  air  nor  swim  off  through  the  sea,  since  if  he 
lived  at  all  he  must  live  on  the  island,  he  would 
have  been  in  one  case  as  much  a  slave  as  in  the 
other.  Crusoe's  ownership  of  the  island  would  be 
equivalent  of  his  ownership  of  Friday. 

Chattel  slavery  is,  in  fact,  merely  the  rude  and 
primitive  mode  of  property  in  man.  It  only  grows 
up  where  population  is  sparse  ;  it  never,  save  by 
virtue  of  special  circumstances,  continues  where  the 
pressure  of  population  gives  land  a  high  value,  for 
in  that  case  the  ownership  of  land  gives  all  the 
power  that  comes  from  the  ownership  of  men  in  more 
convenient  form.  When  in  the  course  of  history  we 
see  the  conquerors  making  chattel  slaves  of  the 
conquered,  it  is  always  where  population  is  sparse 
and  land  of  little  value,  or  where  they  want  to  carry 
off  their  human  spoil.  In  other  cases,  the  conquerors 
merely  appropriate  the  lands  of  the  conquered,  by 
which  means  they  just  as  effectually,  and  much 
more  conveniently,  compel  the  conquered  to  work 
for  them.  It  was  not  until  the  great  estates  of  the 
rich  patricians  began  to  depopulate  Italy  that  the 
importation    of   slaves    began.      In    Turkey    and 


206  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

Egypt,  where  chattel  slavery  is  yet  legal,  it  is  con- 
fined to  the  inmates  and  attendants  of  harems. 
English  siiips  carried  negro  slaves  to  America,  and 
not  to  England  or  Ireland,  because  in  America  land 
was  cheap  and  labor  was  valuable,  while  in  western 
Europe  land  was  valuable  and  labor  was  cheap. 
As  soon  as  the  possibility  of  expansion  over  new 
land  ceased,  chattel  slavery  would  have  died  out  in 
our  Southern  states.  As  it  is,  Southern  planters  do 
not  regret  the  abolition  of  slavery.  They  get  out 
of  the  freedmen  as  tenants  as  much  as  they  got  out 
of  them  as  slaves.  While  as  for  praedial  slavery-* 
the  attachment  of  serfs  to  the  soil  —  the  form  of 
chattel  slavery  which  existed  longest  in  Euroj^e,  it 
is  only  of  use  to  the  proprietor  where  there  is 
little  competition  for  land.  Neither  pr&edial  sla- 
very nor  absolute  chattel  slavery  could  have  added 
to  the  Irish  landlord's  virtual  ownership  of  men  — 
to  his  power  to  make  them  work  for  him  without 
return.  Their  own  competition  for  the  means  of 
livelihood  insured  him  all  they  possibly  could  give. 
To  the  English  proprietor  the  ownership  of  slaves 
would  be  only  a  burden  and  a  loss,  when  he  can 
get  laborers  for  less  than  it  would  cost  to  maintain 
them  as  slaves,  and  when  they  are  become  ill  or  in- 
firm can  turn  them  on  the  parish.  Or  what  would 
the  New  England  manufacturer  gain  by  the  en- 
slavement of  his  operatives  ?  The  competition  with 
each    other    of    so-called    freemen,    who    are    de- 


SLAVERY  AND  SLAVERY.  207 

nied  all  right  to  the  soil  of  what  is  called  ttieir 
country,  brings  him  labor  cheaper  and  more  con- 
veniently than  would  chattel  slavery. 

That  a  people  can  be  enslaved  just  as  effectually 
by  making  property  of  their  lands  as  by  making 
property  of  their  bodies,  is  a  truth  that  conquv^rors 
in  all  ages  have  recognized,  and  that,  as  society 
developed,  the  strong  and  unscrupulous  who  desired 
to  live  oft'  the  labor  of  others,  have  been  prompt  to 
see.  The  coarser  form  of  slavery,  in  which  each 
particular  slave  is  the  property  of  a  particular  owner, 
is  only  fitted  for  a  rude  state  of  society,  and  with 
social  development  entails  more  and  more  care, 
trouble  and  expense  upon  the  owner.  But  by  mak- 
ing property  of  the  land  instead  of  the  person,  much 
care,  supervision  and  expense  are  saved  the  propri- 
etors ;  and  thougli  no  particular  slave  is  owned  by  a 
particular  master,  yet  the  one  class  still  appropri- 
ates the  labor  of  the  other  class  as  before. 

That  each  particular  slave  should  be  owned  by  a 
particular  master  would  in  fact  become,  as  social 
development  went  on,  and  industrial  organization 
grew  complex,  a  manifest  disadvantage  to  the 
masters.  They  would  be  at  the  trouble  of 
whipping,  or  otherwise  compelling  the  slaves 
to  work  ;  at  the  cost  of  watching  them,  and 
of  keeping  them  when  ill  or  unproductive ;  at  the 
trouble  of  finding  work  for  them  to  do,  or  of  hiring 
them  out,   as  at  diff'erent  seasons  or  at  different 


20 S  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

times,  the  number  of  slaves  wliicli  different  owners 
or  different  contractors  could  advantageously  employ 
would  vary.  As  social  development  went  on,  these 
inconveniences  might,  were  there  no  other  way  of 
obviating  them,  have  led  slaveowners  to  adopt  some 
such  device  for  the  joint  ownership  and  manage- 
ment of  slaves,  as  the  mutual  convenience  of  capi- 
talists has  led  to  in  the  management  of  capital. 
In  a  rude  state  of  societ}^,  the  man  who  wants  to 
have  money  ready  for  use  nmst  hoard  it,  or,  if  he 
travels,  carry  it  with  him.  The  man  who  has  capi- 
tal must  use  it  himself  or  lend  it.  But  mutual 
convenience  has,  as  society  developed,  suggested 
methods  of  saving  this  trouble.  The  man  who 
wishes  to  have  his  money  accessible  turns  it  over 
to  a  bank,  which  does  not  agree  to  keep  or  hand 
him  back  that  particular  money,  but  money  to  that 
amount.  And  so  by  turning  over  his  capital  to 
savings  banks  or  trust  companies,  or  by  buying  the 
stock  or  bonds  of  corporations,  he  gets  rid  of  all 
trouble  of  handling  and  employing  it.  Had  chat- 
tel slavery  continued,  some  similar  device  for  the 
ownership  and  management  of  slaves  would  in  time 
have  been  adopted.  But  by  changing  the  form  of 
slavery  —  by  freeing  men  and  appropriating  land  — 
all  the  advantages  of  chattel  slavery  can  be  secured 
without  any  of  the  disadvantages  which  in  a  com- 
plex society  attend  the  owning  of  a  particular  man 
by  a  particular  master. 


SLAVERY    AND    SLAVERY.  209 

Unable  to  employ  themselves,  the  nominally  free 
laborers  are  forced  by  their  competition  with  each 
other  to  pay  as  rent  all  their  earnings  above  a  bare 
living,  or  to  sell  their  labor  for  wages  which  give 
but  a  bare  living,  and  as  landowners  the  ex-slave- 
holders are  enabled  as  before,  to  appropriate  to 
themselves  the  labor  or  the  produce  of  the  labor  of 
their  former  chattels,  having  in  the  value  which  this 
power  of  appropriating  the  proceeds  of  labor  gives  to 
the  ownership  of  land,  a  capitalized  value  equiva- 
lent, or  more  than  equivalent,  to  the  value  of  their 
slaves.  They  no  longer  have  to  drive  their 
slaves  to  work ;  want  and  the  fear  of  want  do 
that  more  effectually  than  the  lash.  They  no 
longer  have  the  trouble  of  looking  out  for  their  em- 
ployment or  hiring  out  their  labor,  or  the  expense  of 
keeping  them  when  they  cannot  work.  That  is 
thrown  upon  the  slaves.  The  tribute  that  they 
still  wring  from  labor  seems  like  voluntary  pay- 
ment. In  fact,  they  take  it  as  their  honest 
share  of  the  rewards  of  production  —  since  tliey 
furnish  the  land  !  And  they  find  so-called  political 
economists,  to  say  nothing  of  so-called  preachers  of 
Christianity,  to  tell  them  it  is  so. 

We  of  the  United  States  take  credit  for  having 

abolished   slavery.      Passing  the  question  of  how 

much   credit   the   majority   of  us    are   entitled   to 

for  the  abolition  of  negro  slavery,  it  remains  true 

that  we  have  only  abolished  one  form  of  slavery  — 
14 


210  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

and  tliat  a  primitive  form  which  had  been  abolished 
in  tlie  greater  portion  of  the  country  by  social  de- 
velopment, and  that,  notwithstanding  its  race  char- 
acter gave  it  peculiar  tenacity,  would  in  time  have 
been  abolished  in  the  same  way  in  other  parts  of 
the  country.  We  have  not  really  abolished  slavery; 
we  have  retained  it  in  its  most  insidious  and 
widespread  form — in  a  form  which  applies  to 
whites  as  to  blacks.  So  far  from  having  abolished 
slavery,  it  is  extending  and  intensifying,  and  we 
make  no  scruple  of  selling  into  it  our  own  children 
—  the  citizens  of  the  republic  yet  to  be.  For  what 
else  are  we  doing  in  selling  the  land  on  which  future 
citizens  must  live,  if  they  are  to  live  at  all  ? 

The  essence  of  slavery  is  the  robbery  of  labor. 
It  consists  in  compelling  men  to  work,  yet  taking 
from  them  all  the  produce  of  their  labor  except 
what  suffices  for  a  bare  living.  Of  how  many  of 
our  "free  and  equal  American  citizens"  is  that 
already  the  lot  ?  And  of  how  many  more  is  it  com- 
ing to  be  the  lot  ? 

In  all  our  cities  there  are,  even  in  good  times, 
thousands  and  thousands  of  men  who  would  gladly 
go  to  work  for  wages  that  would  give  them  merely 
board  and  clothes  —  that  is  to  say,  who  would  gladly 
accept  the  wages  of  slaves.  As  I  have  previously 
stated,  the  Massachusetts  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics 
and  the  Illinois  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics  both  de- 
clare that  in  the  majority  of  cases  the  earnings  of 


SLAVERY  AND  SLAVERY.  211 

wage  workers  will  not  maintain  tlieir  families,  and 
must  be  pieced  out  hj  the  earnings  of  women  and 
children.  In  our  richest  states  are  to  be  found  men 
reduced  to  a  virtual  peonage  —  living  in  their  em- 
ployers' houses,  trading  at  their  stores,  and  for  the 
most  part  unable  to  get  out  of  their  debt  fi-om  one 
year's  end  to  the  other.  In  N'ew  York,  shiits  are 
made  for  35  cents  a  dozen,  and  women  working 
from  fourteen  to  sixteen  hours  a  day  average  three 
dollars  or  four  dollars  a  week.  There  are  cities 
where  the  prices  of  such  work  are  lower  still.  As 
a  matter  of  dollars  and  cents,  no  master  could  afford 
to  work  slaves  so  hard  and  keep  them  so  cheaply. 

But  it  may  be  said  that  the  analogy  between  our 
industrial  system  and  chattel  slavery  is  only  sup- 
ported by  the  consideration  of  extremes.  Between 
those  who  get  but  a  bare  living  and  those  who  can 
live  luxuriously  on  the  earnings  of  others,  are  many 
gradations,  and  here  lies  the  great  middle  class. 
Between  all  classes,  moreover,  a  constant  movement 
of  individuals  is  going  on.  The  millionaire's  grand 
children  may  be  tramps,  while  even  the  poor  man 
who  has  lost  hope  for  himself  may  cherish  it  for 
his  son.  Moreover,  it  is  not  true  that  all  the  differ- 
ence between  what  labor  fairly  earns  and  what 
labor  really  gets  goes  to  the  owners  of  land.  And 
with  us,  in  the  United  States,  a  great  many  of  the 
owners  of  land  are  smallowners  —  men  who  own 
the  homesteads  in  which  tliey  live  or  tlie  soil  which 


212  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

thej  till,  and  who  combine  the  characters  of  laborer 
and  landowner. 

These  objections  will  be  best  met  by  endeavoring 
to  imagine  a  well  developed  society,  like  our  own, 
in  which  chattel  slavery  exists  without  distinction 
of  race.  To  do  this  requires  some  imagination,  for 
we  know  of  no  such  case.  Chattel  slavery  had  died 
out  in  Europe  before  modern  civilization  began,  and 
in  the  New  World  has  existed  oidy  as  race  slavery, 
and  in  communities  of  low  industrial  development. 

But  if  we  do  imagine  slavery  without  race  dis- 
tinction in  a  progressive  community,  we  shall  see  that 
society,  even  if  starting  from  a  point  where  the  greater 
part  of  the  people  were  made  the  chattel  slaves  of 
the  rest,  could  not  long  consist  of  but  the  two 
classes,  masters  and  slaves.  The  indolence,  inter- 
est and  necessity  of  the  masters  would  soon  develop 
a  class  of  intermediaries  between  the  completely 
enslaved  and  themselves.  To  supervise  the  labor 
of  the  slaves,  and  to  keep  them  in  subjection,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  take,  from  the  ranks  of  the 
slaves,  overseers,  policemen,  etc. ,  and  to  reward  them 
by  more  of  the  produce  of  slave  labor  than  goes  to  the 
ordinary  &lave.  So,  too,  would  it  be  necessary  to 
draw  out  special  skill  and  talent.  And  in  the  course 
of  social  development  a  class  of  traders  would  neces- 
sarily arise,  who,  exchanging  the  products  of  slave 
labor,  would  retain  a  considerable  portion ;  and  a 
class  of  contractors,  who,  hiring  slave  labor  from  the 


SLAVERY  AND  SLAVERY.  213 

masters,  would  also  retain  a  portion  of  its  produce. 
Thus,  between  tlie  slaves  forced  to  work  for  a  bare 
living  and  the  masters  who  lived  without  work, 
intermediaries  of  various  grades  would  be  developed, 
some  of  whom  would  doubtless  acquire  large  wealth. 
And  in  the  mutations  of  fortune,  some  slave- 
holders would  be  constantly  falling  into  the  class 
of  intermediaries,  and  finally  into  the  class  of  slaves, 
while  individual  slaves  would  be  rising.  The  con- 
science, benevolence  or  gratitude  of  masters  would 
lead  them  occasionally  to  manumit  slaves;  their 
interest  would  lead  them  to  reward  the  diligence, 
inventiveness,  fidelity  to  themselves,  or  treachery  to 
their  fellows,  of  particular  slaves.  Thus,  as  has 
often  occurred  in  slave  countries,  we  would  find 
slaves  who  were  free  to  make  what  they  could  on 
condition  of  paying  so  much  to  their  masters  every 
month  or  every  quarter ;  slaves  who  had  partially 
bought  their  freedom,  for  a  day  or  two  days  or  three 
days  in  the  week,  or  for  certain  months  in  the  year, 
and  those  who  liad  completely  bought  themselves, 
or  had  been  presented  with  their  freedom.  And,  as 
has  always  happened  where  slavery  had  not  race  char- 
acter, some  of  these  ex-slaves  or  their  children  would, 
in  the  constant  movement,  be  always  working  their 
wa}^  to  the  highest  places,  so  that  in  such  a  state  of 
society  the  apologists  of  things  as  they  are  would  tri- 
umphantly point  to  these  examples,  saying,  "See how 
beautiful  a  thing  is  slavery  !    Any  slave  can  become  a 


214  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

slaveholder  himself  if  he  is  only  faithful,  industrious 
and  prudent !  It  is  onlj  their  own  ignorance  and  dissi- 
pation and  laziness  that  prevent  all  slaves  from 
becoming  masters  !  "  And  then  they  would  indulge 
in  a  moan  for  human  nature.  "Alas  !  "  they  would 
say,  "the  fanlt  is  not  in  slavery;  it  is  in  human 
nature  "  —  meaning,  of  course,  other  human  nature 
than  their  own.  And  if  anyone  hinted  at  the  abolition 
of  slavery,  they  would  charge  him  with  assailing  the 
sacred  rights  of  property,  and  of  endeavoring  to  rob 
poor  blind  widow  women  of  the  slaves  that  were 
their  sole  dependence ;  call  him  a  crank  and  a  com- 
munist; an  enemy  of  man  and  a  deiier  of  God! 

Consider,  furthermore,  the  operation  of  taxation 
in  an  advanced  society  based  on  chattel  slavery ; 
the  effect  of  the  establishment  of  monopolies  of  man- 
ufacture, trade  and  transportation  ;  of  the  creation 
of  public  debts,  etc.,  and  you  will  see  that  in  reality 
the  social  phenomena  would  be  essentially  the  same 
if  men  were  made  property  as  they  are  under  the 
system  that  makes  land  property. 

It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  slavery 
that  results  from  the  appropriation  of  land  does  not 
come  suddenly,  but  insidiously  and  progressively. 
Where  population  is  sparse  and  land  of  little  value, 
the  institution  of  private  property  in  land  may  exist 
without  its  effects  being  much  felt.  As  it  becomes 
more  and  moi-e  difficult  to  get  land,  so  will  the  vir- 
tual enslavement  of  the  laboring  classes  go  on.     As 


SLAVERY   AND    SLAVERY.  215 

the  value  of  land  rises,  more  and  more  of  the  earn- 
ings of  labor  will  be  demanded  for  the  use  of  land, 
until  finally  nothing  is  left  to  laborers  but  the  wages 
of  slavery — a  bare  living. 

But  the  degree  as  well  as  the  manner  in  which 
individuals  are  affected  by  this  movement  must  vary 
very  much.  Where  the  ownership  of  land  has  been 
much  diffused,  there  will  remain,  for  some  time 
after  the  mere  laborer  has  been  reduced  to  the  wages 
of  slavery,  a  greater  body  of  smaller  landowners 
occupying  an  intermediate  position,  and  who,  accord- 
ing to  the  land  they  hold,  and  the  relation  which  it 
bears  to  their  labor,  may,  to  make  a  comparison  with 
chattel  slavery,  be  compared,  in  tlieir  gradations,  to 
the  owners  of  a  few  slaves  ;  to  those  who  own  no 
slaves  but  are  themselves  free  ;  or  to  partial  slaves, 
compelled  to  render  service  for  one,  two,  three,  four 
or  five  days  in  the  week,  but  for  the  rest  of  the 
time  their  own  masters.  As  land  becomes  more 
and  more  valuable  this  class  will  gradually  pass  into 
the  ranks  of  the  completely  enslaved.  The  inde- 
pendent American  farmer  working  with  his  own 
hands  on  his  own  land  is  doomed  as  certainly  as 
two  thousand  years  ago  his  prototype  of  Italy  was 
doomed.  He  must  disappear,  with  the  develop- 
ment of  the  private  ownership  of  land,  as  the  Eng- 
lish yeoman  has  already  disappeared. 

We  have  abolished  negro  slavery  in  the  United 
States.     But  how  small  is  the  real  benefit  to  the 


216  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

slave.  George  M.  Jackson  writes  me  from  St.  Louis, 
under  date  of  August  15,  1883  : 

During  the  war  I  served  in  a  Kentucky  regiment  in  the 
Federal  army.  When  the  war  broke  out,  my  father  owned 
sixty  slaves.  I  had  not  been  back  to  my  old  Kentucky  home 
for  years  until  a  short  time  ago,  when  I  was  met  by  one  of  my 
father's  old  negroes,  who  said  to  me :  "  Mas  George,  you  say 
you  sot  us  free  ;  but  'fore  God,  I'm  wus  off  than  when  I  be- 
longed to  your  father."  The  planters,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
contented  with  the  change.  They  say  :  "  How  foolish  it  was 
in  us  to  go  to  war  for  slavery.  We  get  labor  cheaper  now 
than  when  we  owned  the  slaves."  How  do  they  get  it 
cheaper  ?  Why,  in  the  shape  of  rents  they  take  more  of  the 
labor  of  the  negro  than  they  could  under  slavery,  for  then 
they  were  compelled  to  return  him  sufficient  food,  clothing 
and  medical  attendance  to  keep  him  well,  and  were  com- 
pelled by  conscience  and  public  opinion,  as  well  as  by  law, 
to  keep  him  when  he  could  no  longer  work.  Now  their 
interest  and  responsibility  ceases  when  they  have  got  all 
the  work  out  of  him  they  can. 

In  one  of  his  novels,  Capt.  Marrjat  tells  of  a 
schoolmaster  who  announced  that  he  had  aban- 
doned the  use  of  the  rod.  When  tender  mothers, 
tempted  by  this  announcement,  brought  their  boys 
to  his  institution,  he  was  eloquent  in  his  denun- 
ciations of  the  barbarism  of  the  rod ;  but  no 
sooner  had  the  doors  closed  upon  them  than  the 
luckless  pupils  found  that  the  master  had  only 
abandoned  the  use  of  the  rod  for  the  use  of  the 
cane !  Yery  much  like  this  is  our  abolition  of 
negro  slavery. 

The  only  one  of  our  prominent  men  who  had  any 
glimmering  of  what  was  really  necessary  to  the 
abolition  of  slavery  was  Thaddeus  Stephens,  but  it 


SLAVERY   AND   SLAVERY.  217 

was  only  a  glimmering.  "Forty  acres  and  a 
mule"  would  have  been  a  measure  of  scant  justice 
to  the  freedmen,  and  it  would  for  awhile  have  given 
them  something  of  that  personal  independence 
which  is  necessary  to  freedom.  Yet  only  for 
awhile.  In  the  course  of  time,  and  as  the  pressure 
of  population  increased,  the  forty  acres  would,  witli 
the  majority  of  them,  have  been  mortgaged  and  the 
mule  sold,  and  they  would  soon  have  been,  as 
now,  competitors  for  a  foothold  upon  the  earth  and 
for  the  means  of  making  a  living  from  it.  Such  a 
measure  would  have  given  the  freedmen  a  fairer 
start,  ai.d  for  many  of  them  would  have  postponed 
the  evil  day ;  but  that  is  all.  Land  being  private 
property,  that  evil  day  must  come. 

I  do  not  deny  that  the  blacks  of  the  South  have 
in  some  things  gained  by  the  abolition  of  chattel 
slavery.  I  will  not  even  insist  that,  on  the  whole, 
their  material  condition  has  not  been  improved. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  South  is  yet 
but  sparsely  settled,  and  is  behindhand  in  industrial 
development.  The  continued  existence  of  slavery 
there  was  partly  the  effect  and  partly  the  cause 
of  this.  As  population  increases,  as  industry  is 
developed,  the  condition  of  the  freedmen  must 
become  harder  and  harder.  As  yet,  land  is  com- 
paratively cheap  in  the  South,  and  there  is  much 
not  only  unused  but  unclaimed.  Tlie  consequence 
is,  that  the  freedmen  are  not  yet  driven  into  that 


SI 8  Social  problems. 

fierce  competition  which  must  come  with  denser 
population ;  there  is  no  seeming  surplus  of  labor 
seeking  employment  on  any  terms,  as  in  the  IN^orth. 
The  freedmen  merely  get  a  living,  as  in  the  days  of 
slavery,  and  in  many  cases  not  so  good  a  living; 
but  still  there  is  little  or  no  difficulty  in  getting 
that.  To  fairly  compare  the  new  estate  of  the 
freedmen  with  the  old,  we  must  wait  until  in  popu- 
lation and  industrial  development  the  South  begins 
to  approach  the  condition  of  the  North. 

But  not  even  in  the  North  (nor,  foi  that 
matter,  even  in  Europe)  has  that  form  of  slavery 
which  necessarily  results  from  the  disinheritance  of 
labor  by  the  monopolization  of  land,  yet  reached  its 
culmination.  For  the  vast  area  of  unoccupied  land 
on  this  continent  has  prevented  the  full  effects  ot 
modern  development  from  being  felt.  As  it 
becomes  more  and  more  difficult  to  obtain  land,  so 
will  the  virtual  enslavement  of  the  laboring  classes 
go  on.  As  the  value  of  land  rises,  more  and 
more  of  the  earnings  of  labor  will  be  demanded 
for  the  use  of  land — that  is  to  say,  laborers  must 
give  a  greater  and  greater  portion  of  their  time  up 
to  the  service  of  the  landlord,  until,  finally,  no 
matter  how  hard  they  work,  nothing  is  left  them 
but  a  bare  living. 

Of  the  two  systems  of  slavery,  I  think  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  upon  the  same  moral  level,  that 
which  makes  property  of  persons  is  more  humane 


SLAVERY  AND  SLAVERY.  S19 

than  that  which  results  from  making  private 
property  of  land.  The  cruelties  which  are  per- 
petrated under  the  system  of  chattel  slavery  are 
more  striking  and  arouse  more  indignation  because 
they  are  the  conscious  acts  of  individuals.  But  for 
the  suffering  of  the  poor  under  the  more  refined 
system  no  one  in  particular  seems  responsible. 
That  one  human  being  should  be  deliberately 
burned  by  other  human  beings  excites  our  imagina- 
tion and  arouses  our  indignation  much  more  than 
the  great  fire  or  railroad  accident  in  which  a  hun- 
dred people  are  roasted  alive.  But  this  very  fact 
permit^  cruelties  that  would  not  be  tolerated  under 
the  one  system  to  pass  almost  unnoticed  under  the 
other.  Human  beings  are  overworked,  are  starved, 
are  robbed  of  all  the  light  and  sweetness  of  life, 
are  condemned  to  ignorance  and  brutishness,  and 
to  the  infection  of  physical  and  moral  disease ;  are 
driven  to  crime  and  suicide,  not  by  other  indi- 
viduals, but  by  iron  necessities  for  which  it  seems 
that  no  one  in  particular  is  responsible. 

To  match  from  the  annals  of  chattel  slavery  the 
horrors  that  day  after  day  transpire  unnoticed  in  the 
heart  of  Christian  civilization  it  would  be  necessary 
to  go  back  to  ancient  slavery,  to  the  chronicles  of 
Spanish  conquest  in  the  New  World,  or  to  stories  of 
the  Middle  Passage. 

That  chattel  slavery  is  not  the  worst  form  of  slavery 
we  know  from  the  fact  that  in  countries  where  it  has 


220  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

prevailed  irrespective  of  race  distinctions,  the  ranks 
of  chattel  slaves  have  been  recruited  from  the  ranks 
of  the  free  poor,  who,  driven  by  distress,  have  sold 
themselves  or  their  children.  And  I  think  no  one 
who  reads  our  daily  papers  can  doubt  that  even 
already,  in  the  United  States,  there  are  many  who, 
did  chattel  slavery  ;  without  race  distinction,  exist 
among  us,  would  gladly  sell  themselves  or  their 
children,  and  who  would  really  make  a  good  ex- 
change for  their  nominal  freedom  in  doing  so. 

We  have  not  abolished  slavery.  We  never  can 
abolish  slavery,  until  we  honestly  accept  the  funda- 
mental truth  asserted  by  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence and  secure  to  all  the  equal  and  unalien- 
able rights  with  which  they  are  endowed  by  their 
Creator.  If  we  can  not  or  will  not  do  that,  then,  as 
a  matter  of  humanity  and  social  stability,  it  might 
be  well,  would  it  avail,  to  consider  whether  it  were 
not  wise  to  amend  our  constitution  and  permit  poor 
whites  and  blacks  alike  to  sell  themselves  and  their 
children  to  good  masters.  If  we  must  have  slavery, 
it  were  better  in  the  form  in  which  the  slave  knows 
his  owner,  and  the  heart  and  conscience  and  pride 
of  that  owner  can  be  appealed  to.  Better  breed 
children  for.  the  slaves  of  good.  Christian,  civilized 
people  than  breed  them  for  the  brothel  or  the  peni- 
tentiary. But  alas  !  that  recourse  is  denied.  Sup- 
posing we  did  legalize  chattel  slavery  again,  who 
would  buy  men  when  men  can  be  hired  so  cheaply? 


CHAPTEE  XYI. 

PUBLIC    DEBTS    AND    INDIRECT   TAXATION. 

The  more  we  examine,  the  more  clearly  may  we 
see  that  public  mi'sfortimes  and  corruptions  of  gov- 
ernment do  spring  from  neglect  or  contempt  of  the 
natural  rights  of  man. 

That,  in  spite  of  the  progress  of  civilization, 
Europe  is  to-day  a  vast  camp,  and  the  energies  of 
the  most  advanced  portion  of  mankind  are  every- 
where ta.:ed  so  heavily  to  pay  for  preparations  for  war 
or  the  costs  of  war,  is  due  to  two  great  inventions, 
that  of  indirect  taxation  and  that  of  public  debt. 

Both  of  these  devices  by  which  tyrannies  are 
maintained,  governments  are  corrupted,  and  the 
common  people  plundered,  spring  historically  from 
the  monopolization  of  land,  and  both  directly  ignore 
the  natural  rights  of  man.  Under  the  feudal 
system  the  greater  part  of  public  expenses  were 
defrayed  from  the  rent  of  land,  and  the  landholders 
had  to  do  the  fighting  or  bear  its  cost.  Had  this 
system  been  continued,  England,  for  instance,  would 
to-day  have  had  no  public  debt.  And  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  her  people  and  the  world  would  have  been 
saved  those  unnecessary  and  cruel  wars  in  which  in 
modern  times  English  blood  and  treasure  has  been 

221 


222  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

wasted.  But  by  the  institution  of  indirect  taxes 
and  public  debts  the  great  landholders  were  enabled 
to  throw  off  on  the  people  at  large  the  burdens 
which  constituted  the  condition  on  which  they  held 
their  lands,  and  to  throw  them  off  in  such  a  way 
that  those  on  whom  they  rested,  though  they  might 
feel  the  pressure,  could  not  tell  from  whence  it 
came.  Thus  it  was  that  the  holding  of  land  was 
insidiously  changed  from  a  trust  into  an  individual 
possession,  and  the  masses  stripped  of  the  first  and 
most  important  of  the  rights  of  man. 

The  institution  of  public  debts,  like  the  institu- 
tion of  private  property  in  land,  rests  upon  the 
preposterous  assumption  that  one  generation  may 
bind  another  generation.  If  a  man  were  to  come  to 
me  and  say,  "Here  is  a  promissory  note  which 
your  great-grandfather  gave  to  my  great-grand- 
father, and  which  you  will  oblige  me  by  paying," 
I  would  laugh  at  him,  and  tell  him  tliat  if  he  wanted 
to  collect  his  note  he  had  better  hunt  up  the  man 
who  made  it ;  that  1  had  nothing  to  do  with  my 
great-grandfather's  promises.  And  if  he  were  to 
insist  upon  payment,  and  to  call  my  attention  to 
the  terms  of  the  bond  in  which  my  great-grand- 
father expressly  stipulated  with  his  great  grand- 
father that  I  should  pay  him,  I  would  only  laugh 
the  more,  and  be  the  more  certain  that  he  was  a 
lunatic.  To  such  a  demand  any  one  of  us  would 
reply  in  effect,  "My  great-grandfather  was  evidently 


PUBLIC    DEBTS    AND    INDIRECT    TAXATION.  223 

a  knave  or  a  joker,  and  your  great-grandfather  was 
certainly  a  fool,  which  quality  you  surely  have 
inherited  if  you  expect  me  to  pay  you  money  because 
my  great-grandfather  promised  that  I  should  do  so. 
He  might  as  well  have  given  your  great-grandfather 
a  draft  upon  Adam  or  a  check  upon  the  First 
National  Bank  of  the  Moon." 

Yet  upon  this  assumption  that  ascendants  may 
bind  desceadants,  that  one  generation  may  legislate 
for  another  generation,  rests  the  assumed  validity 
of  our  land  titles  and  public  debts. 

If  it  were  possible  for  the  present  to  borrow  of  the 
future,  for  those  now  living  to  draw  upon  wealth  to 
be  created  by  those  who  are  yet  to  come,  there  could 
be  no  more  dangerous  power,  none  more  certain  to 
be  abused ;  and  none  that  would  involve  in  its  ex- 
ercise a  more  flagrant  contempt  for  the  natural  and 
unalienable  rights  of  man.  But  we  have  no  such 
power,  and  there  is  no  possible  invention  by  which 
we  can  obtain  it.  When  we  talk  about  calling  upon 
future  generations  to  bear  their  part  in  the  costs 
and  burdens  of  the  present,  about  imposing  upon 
them  a  share  in  expenditures  we  take  the  liberty  of 
assuming  they  will  consider  to  have  been  made  for 
their  benefit  as  well  as  for  ours,  we  are  carrying 
metaphor  into  absurdity.  Public  debts  are  not  a 
device  for  borrowing  from  the  future,  for  compell- 
ing those  yet  to  be  to  bear  a  share  in  expenses 
which  a  present  generation  may  choose  to  incur. 


224  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

That  is,  of  course,  a  physical  impossibility.  They 
are  merely  a  device  for  obtaining  control  of  wealth 
in  the  present  by  promising  that  a  certain  distribu- 
tion of  wealth  in  the  future  shall  be  made  —  a  device 
by  which  the  owners  of  existing  wealth  are  induced 
to  give  it  up  under  promise,  not  merely  that  other 
people  shall  be  taxed  to  pay  them,  but  that  other 
people's  children  shall  be  taxed  for  the  benefit  of 
their  children  or  the  children  of  their  assigns. 
Those  who  get  control  of  governments  are  thus  en- 
abled to  get  sums  which  they  could  not  get  by  im- 
mediate taxation  without  arousing  tlie  indignation 
and  resistance  of  those  who  could  make  the  most 
effective  resistance.  Thus  tyrants  are  enabled  to 
maintain  themselves,  and  extravagance  and  corrup- 
tion are  fostered.  If  any  cases  can  be  pointed 
to  in  which  the  power  to  incur  public  debts  has  been 
in  any  way  a  benefit,  they  are  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  cases  in  which  the  effects  have  been  purely 
injurious. 

The  public  debts  for  which  most  can  be  said  are 
those  contracted  for  the  purpose  of  making  public 
improvements,  yet  what  extravagance  and  corrup- 
tion the  power  of  contracting  such  debts  has  engen- 
dered in  the  United  States  is  too  well  known  to 
require  illustration,  and  has  led,  in  a  number  of  the 
States,  to  constitutional  restrictions.  Even  the 
quasi  public  debts  of  railroad  and  other  such  cor- 
porations have  similarly  led  to  extravagance  and 


PUBLIC    DEBTS   AND    INDIRECT    TAXATION.         225 

corruj^tion  that  have  far  outweighed  any  good  re- 
sults accomplished  through  them.  While  as  for  the 
great  national  debts  of  the  world,  incurred  as  they 
have  been  for  purposes  of  tyranny  and  war,  it  is  im- 
possible to  see  in  them  anything  but  evil.  Of  all 
these  great  national  debts  that  of  the  United  States 
will  best  bear  examination  ;  but  it  is  no  exception. 
As  I  have  before  said,  the  wealth  expended  in 
carrying  on  the  war  did  not  come  from  abroad  or 
from  the  future,  but  from  the  existing  wealth  in  the 
States  under  the  national  flag,  and  if,  when  we 
called  on  men  to  die  for  their  country,  we  had  not 
shrunk  from  taking,  if  necessary,  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-nine  thousand  dollars  from  every  millionaire, 
we  need  not  have  created  any  debt.  But  instead  of 
that,  what  taxation  we  did  impose  was  so  levied  as  to 
fall  on  the  poor  more  heavily  than  on  the  rich,  and 
to  incidentally  establish  monopolies  by  which  the 
rich  could  profit  at  the  expense  of  the  poor.  And 
then,  when  more  wealth  still  was  needed,  instead 
of  taking  it  from  those  who  had  it,  we  told  the  rich 
that  if  they  would  voluntarily  let  the  nation  use 
some  of  their  wealth  we  would  make  it  profitable  to 
them  by  guaranteeing  the  use  of  the  taxing  power 
to  pay  them  back,  principal  and  interest.  And  we 
did  make  it  profitable  with  a  vengeance.  Kot  only 
did  we,  by  the  institution  of  the  N'ational  Banking 
system,  give  them  back  nine-tenths  of  much  of  the 
money  thus  borrowed  while  continuing  to  pay  in- 


226  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

terest  on  the  whole  amount,  but  even  where  it  was 
required  neither  by  the  letter  of  the  bond  nor  thq 
equity  of  the  circumstances  we  made  debt  incurred 
in  depreciated  greenbacks  payable  on  its  face  in  gold. 
The  consequence  of  this  method  of  carrying  on  the 
war  was  to  make  the  rich  richer  instead  of  poorer. 
The  era  of  monstrous  fortunes  in  the  United  States 
dates  from  the  war. 

But  if  this  can  be  said  of  the  debt  of  the  United 
States,  what  shall  be  said  of  other  national  debts  ! 

In  paying  interest  upon  their  enormous  national 
debt,  what  is  it  that  the  people  of  England  are  pay- 
ing? They  are  paying  interest  upon  sums  thrown 
or  given  away  by  profligate  tyrants,  and  corrupt 
oligarchies  in  generations  past — upon  grants  made  to 
courtesans,  and  panders,  and  sycophants,  and  traitors 
to  the  liberties  of  their  country  ;  upon  sums  bor- 
rowed to  corrupt  their  own  legislatures  and  wage 
wars  both  against  their  own  liberties  and  the  liber- 
ties of  other  peoples.  For  the  Hessians  hired  and 
the  Indians  armed  and  the  fleets  and  armies  sent 
to  crush  the  American  colonies  into  submission, 
with  the  effect  of  splitting  into  two  what  might  but 
for  that  have  perhaps  yet  been  one  great  confeder- 
ated nation ;  for  the  cost  of  treading  down  the  Irish 
people  and  inflicting  wounds  that  yet  rankle  ;  for 
the  enormous  sums  spent  in  the  endeavor  to  main- 
tain on  the  continent  of  Europe  the  blasphemy  of 
divine  right ;  for  expenditures  made  to  carry  raping 


PUBLIC    DEBTS    AND    mDIRECT    TAXATION.         227 

among  unoffending  peoples  in  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  Englishmen  of  to-day  are  taxed. 
It  is  not  the  case  of  asking  a  man  to  pay  a  debt  con- 
tracted by  his  great-grandfather  ;  it  is  asking  him  to 
pay  for  the  rope  with  which  his  great-grandfather 
was  hanged  or  the  faggots  with  which  he  was 
burned. 

The  so-called  Egyptian  debt  which  the  power  of 
England  has  recently  been  used  to  enforce  is  a  still 
more  flagrant  instance  of  spoliation.  The  late 
Khedive  was  no  more  than  an  Arab  robber,  living  at 
free  quarters  in  the  country  and  plundering  its  peo- 
ple. All  he  could  get  by  stripping  them  to  starva- 
tion and  nakedness  not  satisfying  his  insensate  and 
barbarian  profligacy,  European  money-lenders,  re- 
lying upon  the  assumed  sanctity  of  national  debts, 
offered  him  money  on  the  most  usurious  terms.  Tlie 
money  was  spent  with  the  wildest  recklessness,  upon 
harems,  palaces,  yachts,  diamonds,  presents  and 
entertainments  ;  yet  to  extort  interest  ujDori  it  from 
poverty  stricken  fellahs.  Christian  England  sends 
fleets  and  armies  to  murder  and  bui'n,  and  with  her 
power  maintains  the  tyranny  and  luxury  of  a  khe- 
dival  puppet  at  the  expense  of  the  Egyptian  people. 

Thus  the  device  of  public  debts  enables  tyrants  to 
entrench  themselves,  and  adventurers  who  seize  upon 
government  to  defy  the  people.  It  permits  the  mak- 
ing of  great  and  wasteful  expenditures,  by  silencing, 
and  even  converting  into  support,  tlie  opposition  of 


228  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

those  who  would  otherwise  resist  these  expenditures 
with  most  energy  and  force.  But  for  the  ability  of 
rulers  to  contract  public  debts,  nine-tenths  of  the 
wars  of  Christendom  for  the  past  two  centuries  could 
never  have  been  waged.  The  destruction  of  wealth 
and  the  shedding  of  blood,  the  agony  of  wives  and 
mothers  and  children  thus  caused,  cannot  be  com- 
puted, but  to  these  items  must  be  added  the  waste 
and  loss  and  demoralization  caused  by  constant 
preparation  for  war. 

Nor  do  the  public  misfortunes  and  corruptions  of 
government  which  arise  from  the  ignorance  and  con- 
tempt of  human  rights  involved  in  the  recognition 
of  public  debts,  end  with  the  costs  of  war  and  w^ar- 
like  preparation,  and  the  corruptions  which  such 
vast  public  expenditures  foster.  The  passions  ar- 
roused  by  war,  the  national  hatreds,  the  worship 
of  military  glory,  the  thirst  for  victory  or  revenge, 
dull  public  conscience,  pervert  the  best  social  in- 
stincts into  that  low,  unreasoning  extension  of  sel- 
fishness miscalled  patriotism ;  deaden  the  love  of 
liberty ;  lead  men  to  submit  to  tyranny  and  usurpa- 
tion from  the  savage  thirst  for  cutting  the  throats  of 
other  people,  or  the  fear  of  having  their  own  throats 
cut.  They  so  pervert  religious  perceptions  that  pro- 
fessed followers  of  Christ  bless  in  his  name  the 
standards  of  murder  and  rapine,  and  thanks  are 
given  to  the  Prince  of  Peace  for  victories  that  pile 


PUBLIC    DEBTS    AND   INDIRECT   TAXATION.         229 

the  earth  with  mangled  corpses,  and  make  hearth- 
stones desolate ! 

ISTor  yet  does  the  evil  end  here.  William  H. 
Yanderbilt,  with  his  forty  millions  of  registered 
bonds,  declares  that  the  national  debt  ought  not  to 
be  paid  off;  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  ought  to  be  in- 
creased, because  it  gives  stability  to  the  government, 
''every  man  who  gets  a  bond  becoming  a  loyal  and 
loving  citizen.''*  Mr.  Yanderbilt  expresses  the  uni- 
versal feeling  of  his  kind.  It  was  not  loyal  and  lov- 
ing citizens  with  bonds  in  their  pockets  who  rushed 
to  the  front  in  our  civil  war,  or  who  rush  to  the 
front  in  any  war,  but  the  possession  of  a  bond  does 
tend  to  make  a  man  loyal  and  loving  to  whoever 
may  grasp  the  machinery  of  government,  and  will 
continue  to  cash  coupons.  A  great  public  debt  cre- 
ates a  great  moneyed  interest  that  wants  "strong 
government"  and  fears  change,  and  thus  forms  a 
powerful  element  on  which  corrupt  and  tyrannous 
government  can  always  rely  as  against  the  people. 
We  may  see  already  in  the  United  States  the  de- 
moralization of  this  influence ;  while  in  Europe, 
where  it  has  had  more  striking  manifestations,  it  is 
the  mainstay  of  tyranny,  and  the  strongest  obstacle 
to  political  reform. 

Thomas  Jefferson  was  right,  when  as  a  deduction 
from  "the  self  evident  truth  that  the  land  belongs 
in  usufruct  to  the  living,"  he  declared  that  one  gen- 

*  Interview  in  New  York  Times. 


230  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

eration  should  not  hold  itself  bound  by  the  laws  or 
the  debts  of  its  predecessors,  and  as  this  widest- 
minded  of  American  patriots  and  greatest  of  Amer- 
ican statesmen  said,  measures  which  would  give 
practical  effect  to  this  principle  will  appear  the  more 
salutary  the  more  they  are  considered. 

Indirect  taxation,  the  other  device  by  which  the 
people  are  bled  without  feeling  it,  and  those  who  could 
make  the  most  effective  resistance  to  extravagance 
and  corruption  are  bribed  into  acquiescence,  is  an 
invention  whereby  taxes  are  so  levied  that  those 
who  directly  pay  are  enabled  to  collect  them  again 
from  others,  and  generally  to  collect  them  with  a 
profit,  in  higher  prices.  Tliose  who  directly  pay 
the  taxes'and,  still  more  important,  those  who  desire 
high  prices,  are  thus  interested  in  the  imposition  and 
maintenance  of  taxation,  while  those  on  whom  the 
burden  ultimately  falls  do  not  realize  it. 

The  corrupting  effects  of  indirect  taxation  are 
obvious  wherever  it  has  been  resorted  to,  but 
nowhere  more  obvious  than  in  the  United  States. 
Ever  since  the  war  the  great  effort  of  our  national 
government  has  not  been  to  reduce  taxation,  but  to 
find  excuses  for  maintaining  war  taxation.  The 
most  corrupting  extravagance  in  every  department 
of  administration  has  thus  been  fostered,  and  every 
endeavor  used  to  increase  expense.  We  have  de- 
liberately substituted  a  costly  currency  for  a  cheap 
currency  ;  we  have  deliberately  added  to  the  cost  of 


PUBLIC    DEBTS    AXD    INDIRECT    TAXATION.         231 

paying  off  the  public  debt ;  we  maintain  a  costly 
navy  for  which  we  have  no  sort  of  use,  and  which, 
in  case  of  war,  would  be  of  no  sort  of  use  to  us  ;  and 
an  army  twelve  times  as  large  and  fifteen  times  as  ex- 
pensive as  we  need.  We  are  digging  silver  out  of 
certain  holes  in  the  ground  in  Nevada  and  Colo- 
rado and  poking  it  down  other  holes  in  the  ground 
in  Washington,  'New  York  and  San  Francisco.  We 
are  spending  great  sums  in  useless  "public  im- 
provements," and  are  paying  pensions  under  a  law 
which  seems  framed  but  to  put  a  premium  upon 
fraud  and  get  away  with  public  money.  And  yet 
the  great  question  before  Congress  is  what  to  do 
with  the  surplus.  Any  proposition  to  reduce  taxa- 
tion arouses  the  most  bitter  opposition  from  those 
who  profit-  or  who  imagine  they  profit  from  the  im- 
position of  this  taxation,  and  a  clamorous  lobby  sur- 
rounds Congress,  begging,  bullying,  bribing,  log- 
rolling against  the  reduction  of  taxation,  each 
interest  protesting  and  insisting  that  whatever  tax 
is  reduced,  its  own  pet  tax  must  be  left  intact.  This 
clamor  of  special  interests  for  the  continuance  of 
indirect  taxation  may  give  us  some  idea  of  how 
much  greater  are  the  sums  these  taxes  take  from  the 
people  than  those  they  put  in  the  treasury.  But  it 
is  only  a  faint  idea,  for  besides  what  goes  to  the 
government  and  what  is  intercepted  by  private 
interests,  there  is  the  loss  and  waste  caused  by 
the  artificial  restrictions  and  difficulties  which  this 


232  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

system  of  indirect  taxation  places  in  the  way  of  pro- 
duction and  exchange,  and  which  unquestionably 
amount  to  far  more  than  the  other  two  items. 

The  cost  of  this  system  that  can  be  measured  in 
money  is,  however,  of  little  moment  as  compared 
with  its  effect  in  corrupting  government,  in  debas- 
ing public  morals  and  befogging  the  thought  of  the 
people.  The  first  thing  every  man  is  called  upon 
to  do  when  he  reaches  this  ''land  of  liberty''  is  to 
take  a  false  oath  ;  the  next  thing  he  is  called  upon 
to  do  is  to  bribe  a  Custom  House  officer.  And  so 
on,  through  every  artery  of  the  body  politic  and 
every  fiber  of  the  public  mind,  runs  the  poisonous 
virus.  Law  is  brought  into  contempt  by  the  mak- 
ing of  actions  that  are  not  crimes  in  morals  crimes 
in  law ;  the  unscrupulous  are  given  an  advantage 
over  the  scrupulous  ;  voters  are  bought,  ofiicials 
are  corrupted,  the  press  is  debauched  ;  and  the  per- 
sistent advocacy  of  these  selfish  interests  has  so 
far  beclouded  popular  thought  that  a  very  large 
number — I  am  inclined  to  think  a  very  large  ma- 
jority —  of  the  American  people  actually  believe  that 
they  are  benefited  by  being  thus  taxed  ! 

To  recount  in  detail  the  public  misfortunes  and 
corruptions  of  government  which  arise  from  this 
vicious  system  of  taxation  would  take  more  space 
than  I  can  here  devote  to  the  subject.  But  what  I 
wish  specially  to  point  out  is,  that,  like  the  evils 
arising  from  public  debts,  they  are  in  the  last  analy- 


PUBLIC    DEBTS    AND    INDIRECT   TAXATION.  233 

sis  due  to  "ignorance,  neglect  or  contempt  of 
human  rights."  While  every  citizen  may  properly 
be  called  upon  to  bear  his  fair  share  in  all  proper 
expenses  of  government,  it  is  manifestly  an  infringe- 
ment of  natural  rights  to  use  the  taxing  power  so  as 
to  give  one  citizen  an  advantage  over  another,  to 
take  from  some  the  proceeds  of  their  labor  in  order 
to  swell  the  profit  of  others,  and  to  punish  as  crimes 
actions  which  in  themselves  are  not  injurious. 


CHAPTEE  XYII. 

THE   FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT. 

To  prevent  government  from  becoming  corrupt 
and  tyrannous,  its  organization  and  methods  should 
be  as  simple  as  possible,  its  functions  be  restricted 
to  those  necessary  to  the  common  welfare,  and  in 
all  its  parts  it  should  be  kept  as  close  to  the  people 
and  as  directly  within  their  control  as  may  be. 

We  have  ignored  these  principles  in  many  ways, 
and  the  result  has  been  corruption  and  demoraliza- 
tion, the  loss  of  control  by  the  people,  and  the 
wresting  of  government  to  the  advantage  of  the  few 
and  the  spoliation  of  the  many.  The  line  of  reform, 
on  one  side  at  least,  lies  in  simplification. 

The  first  and  main  purpose  of  government  is 
admirably  stated  in  that  grand  document  which  we 
Americans  so  honor  and  so  ignore — the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence.  It  is  to  secure  to  men  those 
equal  and  unalienable  rights  with  which  the  Creator 
has  endowed  them.  I  shall  hereafter  show  how  the 
adoption-  of  the  only  means  by  which,  in  civilized 
and  progressive  society,  the  first  of  these  unalien- 
able rights — the  equal  right  to  land — can  be 
secured,  will  at  the  same  time  greatly  simplify 
government  and  do  away  with  corrupting  influences. 

234 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  235 

And  beyond  this,  much  simplification  is  possible, 
and  should  be  sought  wherever  it  can  be  attained. 
As  political  corruption  makes  it  easier  to  resist  the 
demand  for  reform,  whatever  may  be  done  to  purify 
politics  and  bring  government  within  the  intelligent 
supervision  and  control  of  the  people  is  not  merely 
in  itself  an  end  to  be  sought,  but  a  means  to  larger 
ends. 

The  American  Republic  has  no  more  need  for  its 
burlesque  of  a  navy  than  a  peaceable  giant  would 
have  for  a  stuffed  club  or  a  tin  sword.  It  is  only 
maintained  for  the  sake  of  the  officers  and  the  naval 
rings.  In  peace  it  is  a  source  of  expense  and  cor- 
ruption ;  in  war  it  would  be  useless.  We  are  too 
strong  for  any  foreign  power  to  wantonly  attack,  we 
ought  to  be  too  great  to  wantonly  attack  others.  If 
war  should  ever  be  forced  upon  us,  we  could  safely 
rely  upon  science  and  invention,  which  are  already 
superseding  navies  faster  than  they  can  be  built. 

So  with  our  army.  All  we  need,  if  we  even  now 
need  that,  is  a  small  force  of  frontier  police,  such  as 
is  maintained  in  Australia  and  Canada.  Standing 
navies  and  standing  armies  are  inimical  to  the 
genius  of  democracy,  and  it  ought  to  be  our  pride, 
as  it  is  our  duty,  to  show  the  world  that  a  great 
republic  can  dispense  with  both.  And  in  organiza- 
tion, as  in  principle,  both  our  nav^y  and  our  army  are 
repugnant  to  the  democratic  idea.  In  both  we 
maintain    that   distinction   between    commissioned 


236  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

officers  and  common  soldiers  and  sailors  which 
arose  in  Europe  when  the  nobility  who  furnished 
the  one  were  considered  a  superior  race  to  the 
serfs  and  peasants  who  supplied  the  other.  The 
whole  system  is  an  insult  to  democracy,  and  ought 
to  be  swept  away. 

Our  diplomatic  system,  too,  is  servilely  copied 
from  the  usages  of  kings  who  plotted  with  each 
other  against  the  liberties  of  the  people,  before  the 
ocean  steamship  and  the  telegraph  were  invented.  It 
serves  no  purpose  save  to  reward  unscrupulous 
politicians  and  corruptionists,  and  occasionally  to 
demoralize  a  poet.  To  abolish  it  would  save  ex- 
pense, corruption  and  national  dignity. 

In  legal  administration  there  is  a  large  field  for 
radical  reform.  Here,  too,  we  have  servilely  copied 
English  precedents,  and  have  allowed  lawyers  to 
make  law  in  the  interests  of  their  class  until  justice 
is  a  costly  gamble  for  which  a  poor  man  cannot 
afford  to  sue.  The  best  use  that  could  be  made  of 
our  great  law  libraries,  to  which  the  reports  of 
thirty-eight  States,  of  the  Federal  courts,  and  of  the 
English,  Scotch  and  Irish  courts  are  each  year 
being  added,  would  be  to  send  them  to  the  paper 
mills,  and  to  adopt  such  principles  and  methods  of 
procedure  as  would  reduce  our  great  army  of 
lawyers  at  least  to  the  French  standard.  At 
the  same  time  our  statute  books  are  full  of 
enactments  which  could,  with  advantage,  be  swept 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  237 

awav.  It  is  not  the  business  of  government 
to  make  men  virtuous  or  religious,  or  to  preserve 
the  fool  from  the  consequences  of  his  own  folly. 
Government  should  be  repressive  no  further  than  is 
necessary  to  secure  liberty  by  protecting  the  equal 
rights  of  each  from  aggression  on  the  part  of  others, 
and  the  moment  governmental  prohibitions  extend 
beyond  this  line  they  are  in  danger  of  defeating  the 
very  ends  they  are  intended  to  serve.  For  while 
the  tendency  of  laws  which  prohibit  or  command 
what  the  moral  sense  does  not,  is  to  bring  law  into 
contempt  and  produce  hj^pocrisy  and  evasion,  so  the 
attempt  to  bring  law  to  the  aid  of  morals  as  to  those 
acts  and  relations  which  do  not  plainly  involve  viola- 
tion of  the  liberty  of  others,  is  to  weaken  rather  than 
to  strengther  moral  influences ;  to  make  the  standard 
of  wrong  and  right  a  legal  one,  and  to  enable  him 
who  can  dexterously  escape  tlie  punishment  of  the 
law  to  escape  all  punishment.  Thus,  for  instance, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  standard  of  com- 
mercial honesty  would  be  much  higher  in  the 
absence  of  laws  for  the  collection  of  debts.  As  to 
ah  such  matters,  the  cunning  rogue  keeps  within  the 
law  or  evades  the  law,  while  the  existence  of  a  legal 
standard  lowers  the  moral  standard  and  weakens 
the  sanction  of  public  opinions. 

Kestrictions,  prohibitions,  interferences  with  the 
liberty  of  action  in  itself  harmless,  are  evil  in 
their  nature,  and,  though  they  may  sometimes  be 


238  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

necessary,  may  for  tlie  most  part  be  likened  to  medi- 
cines whicli  suppress  or  modify  some  symptom  with- 
out lessening  the  disease  ;  and,  generally,  where 
restrictive  or  prohibitive  laws  are  called  for,  the 
evils  tliey  are  designed  to  meet  may  be  traced  to 
previous  restriction  —  to  some  curtailment  of  nat- 
ural rights. 

All  the  tendencies  of  the  time  are  to  the  absorp- 
tion of  smaller  communities,  to  the  enlargement  of 
the  area  within  which  uniformity  of  law  and  ad- 
ministration is  necessary  or  desirable.  But  for  this 
very  reason  we  ought  with  the  more  tenacity  to 
hold,  wherever  possible,  to  the  principle  of  local 
self-government — the  principle  that,  in  things  which 
concern  only  themselves,  the  people  of  each  politi- 
cal subdivision  —  township,  ward,  city  or  state,  as 
may  be  —  shall  act  for  themselves.  We  have  neg- 
lected this  principle  within  our  States  even  more 
than  in  the  relations  between  the  State  and  National 
Governments,  and  in  attempting  to  govern  great 
cities  by  State  commissions,  and  in  making  what 
properly  belongs  to  County  Supervisors  and  Town- 
ship Trustees  the  business  of  legislatures,  we  have 
divided  responsibility  and  promoted  corruption. 

Much,  •  too,  may  be  done  to  restrict  the  abuse  of 
party  machinery,  and  make  the  ballot  the  true  ex 
pression  of  the  will  of  the  voter,  by  simplifying  our 
elective  methods.  And  a  principle  should  always  be 
kept  in  mind  which  we  have  largely  ignored,  that 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  239 

the  people  cannot  manage  details,  nor  intelligently 
choose  more  than  a  few  officials.  To  call  upon  the 
average  citizen  to  vote  at  each  election  for  a  long 
string  of  candidates,  as  to  the  majority  of  whom  he 
can  know  nothing  unless  he  makes  a  business  of 
politics,  is  to  relegate  choice  to  nominating  conven- 
tions and  political  rings.  And  to  divide  power  is 
often  to  destroy  responsibility,  and  to  provoke,  not 
to  prevent,  usurpation. 

I  can  but  briefly  allude  to  these  matters,  though 
in  themselves  they  deserve  much  attention.  It  is 
the  more  necessary  to  simplify  government  as  much 
as  possible  and  to  improve,  as  much  as  may  be, 
what  may  be  called  the  mechanics  of  government,  be- 
cause, with  the  progress  of  society,  the  functions 
which  government  must  assume  steadily  increase. 
It  is  only  in  the  infancy  of  society  that  the  functions 
of  government  can  be  properly  confined  to  provid- 
ing for  the  common  defense  and  protecting  the 
weak  against  the  physical  power  of  the  strong.  As 
society  develops  in  obedience  to  that  law  of  inte- 
gration and  increasing  complexity  of  which  I  spoke 
in  the  first  of  these  chapters,  it  becomes  necessary 
in  order  to  secure  equality  that  other  regulations 
should  be  made  and  enforced,  and  upon  the  primary 
and  restrictive  functions  of  government  are  super- 
imposed what  ma}^  be  called  cooperative  functions, 
the  refusal  to  assume  which  leads,  in  many  cases, 
to  the  disroorarJ  of  individual  riorhts  as  surelv  as 


240  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

does  the  assumption  of  directive  and  restrictive 
functions  not  properly  belonging  to  government 

In  tlie  division  of  labor  and  tlie  specialization  of 
vocation  that  begin  in  an  early  stage  of  social  de- 
velopment, and  increase  with  it,  the  assumption  by 
individuals  of  certain  parts  in  the  business  of  society 
necessarily  operates  to  the  exclusion  of  other  indi- 
viduals. Thus  when  one  opens  a  store  or  an  inn, 
or  establishes  a  regular  carriage  of  passengers  or 
goods,  or  devotes  himself  to  a  special  trade  or  pro- 
fession of  which  all  may  have  need,  his  doing  of 
these  things  operates  to  prevent  others  from  doing 
them,  and  leads  to  the  establishment  of  habits  and 
customs  which  make  resort  to  him  a  necessity  to 
others,  and  which  would  put  those  who  were  denied 
this  resort  at  a  great  disadvantage  as  compared  with 
other  individuals.  Thus  to  secure  equality  it  be- 
comes necessary  to  so  limit  liberty  of  action  as  to 
oblige  those  who  thus  take  upon  themselves  quasi-- 
public  functions  to  serve  without  discrimination 
those  who  may  apply  to  them  upon  customary  con- 
ditions. This  principle  is  recognized  by  all  nations 
that  have  made  any  progress  in  civilization,  in  their 
laws  relating  to  common  carriers,  innkeepers,  etc. 

As  civilization  progresses  and  industrial  develop- 
ment goes  on,  the  concentration  which  results  from 
the  utilization  of  larger  powers  and  improved  pro- 
cesses operates  more  and  more  to  the  restriction  and 
exclusion  of  competition,  and  to  the  establishment 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  241 

of  complete  monopolies.  This  we  may  see  very 
clearly  in  the  railroad.  It  is  but  a  sheer  waste 
of  capital  and  labor  to  build  one  railroad  alongside 
of  another ;  and  even  where  this  is  done,  an  irre- 
sistible tendency  leads  either  to  consolidation  or 
to  combination  ;  and  even  at  what  are  called  com- 
peting points,  competition  is  only  transitional.  The 
consolidation  of  companies,  which  in  a  few  j^ears 
bids  fair  to  concentrate  the  whole  railway  business 
of  the  United  States  in  the  hands  of  a  half-a-dozen 
managements,  the  pooling  of  receipts,  and  agree- 
ments as  to  business  and  charges,  which  even  at 
competing  points  prevent  competition,  are  due  to 
a  tendency  inherent  in  the  development  of  the  rail- 
road system,  and  of  which  it  is  idle  to  complain. 

The  primary  purpose  and  end  of  government 
being  to  secure  .he  natural  rights  and  equal  liberty 
of  eacl^,  all  businesses  that  involve  monopoly  are 
within  the  necessary  province  of  governmental  regu- 
lation, and  businesses  that  are  in  their  nature  com- 
plete monopolies  become  properly  functions  of  the 
State.  As  society  develops,  the  State  must  assume 
these  functions,  in  their  nature  cooperative,  in  order 
to  secure  the  equal  rights  and  liberty  of  all.  That 
is  to  say,  as,  in  the  process  of  integration,  the  indi- 
vidual becomes  more  and  more  dependent  upon  and 
subordinate  to  the  all,  it  becomes  necessary  for  gov- 
ernment,   which  is  properly  that  social  organ  by 

16 


242  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

which  alone  the  whole  body  of  individuals  can  act, 
to  take  upon  itself,  in  the  interest  of  all,  certain  func- 
tions which  cannot  safely  be  left  to  individuals. 
Thus  out  of  the  principle  that  it  is  the  proper  end 
and  purpose  of  government  to  secure  the  natural 
rights  and  equal  liberty  of  the  individual,  grows  the 
principle  that  it  is  the  business  of  government  to  do 
for  the  mass  of  individuals  those  things  which  can- 
not be  done,  or  cannot  be  so  well  done,  by  indi- 
vidual action.  As  in  the  development  of  species, 
the  power  of  conscious,  coordinated  action  of  the 
whole  being  must  assume  greater  and  greater  rela- 
tive importance  to  the  automatic  action  of  parts,  so 
is  it  in  the  development  of  society.  This  is  the 
truth  in  socialism,  which,  although  it  is  being 
forced  upon  us  by  industrial  progress  and  social 
development,  we  are  so  slow  to  recognize. 

In  the  physical  organism,  weakness  and  disease 
result  alike  from  the  overstraining  of  functions  and 
from  the  non-use  of  functions.  In  like  manner  gov- 
ernments may  be  corrupted  and  public  misfortunes 
induced  by  the  failure  to  assume,  as  governmental, 
functions  that  properly  belong  to  government  as  the 
controlling  organ  in  the  management  of  common 
interests,  as  well  as  from  interferences  by  govern- 
ment in  the  proper  sphere  of  individual  action. 
This  we  may  see  in  our  own  case.  In  what  we 
attempt  to  do  by  government  and  what  we  leave 
undone  we  are  like  a  man  who  should  leave  the 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMKNT.  243 

provision  of  his  dinner  to  the  promptings  of  his 
stomach  while  attempting  to  govern  his  digestion  by 
the  action  of  his  will  ;  or  like  one  who,  in  walking 
through  a  crowded  street  or  over  a  bad  road,  should 
concentrate  all  his  conscious  faculties  upon  the 
movement  of  his  legs  without  paying  any  attention 
to  where  he  was  going. 

To  illustrate  :  It  is  not  the  business  of  govern- 
ment to  interfere  with  the  views  which  any  one  may 
hold  of  the  Creator  or  with  the  worship  he  may 
choose  to  pay  him,  so  long  as  the  exercise  of  these  in- 
dividual rights  does  not  conflict  with  the  equal  liberty 
of  others ;  and  the  result  of  governmental  interfer- 
ence in  this  domain  has  been  hypocrisy,  corruption, 
persecution  and  religious  war.  It  is  not  the  busi- 
ness of  government  to  direct  the  employment  of 
labor  and  capil  il,  and  to  foster  certain  industries 
at  the  expense  of  other  industries  ;  and  the  attempt 
to  do  so  leads  to  all  the  waste,  loss  and  corruption 
due  to  protective  tariffs. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  business  of  government 
to  issue  money.  This  is  perceived  as  soon  as  the 
great  labor-saving  invention  of  money  supplants 
barter.  To  leave  it  to  every  one  who  chose  to  do 
so  to  issue  money  would  be  to  entail  general  incon- 
venience and  loss,  to  offer  many  temptations  to 
roguery,  and  to  put  the  poorer  classes  of  society  at 
a  great  disadvantage.  These  obvious  considerations 
have  everywhere,  as  society  became  well  organized, 


244  SOCIAL  PKOBLEMS. 

led  to  the  recognition  of  the  coinage  of  money  as  an 
exchisive  function  of  government.  When,  in  the 
progress  of  society,  a  further  labor-saving  improve- 
ment becomes  possible  hy  the  substitution  of  paper 
for  the  precious  metals  as  the  material  for  money, 
the  reasons  why  the  issuance  of  this  money  should 
be  made  a  government  function  become  still  stronger. 
The  evils  entailed  by  wildcat  banking  in  the  United 
States  are  too  well  remembered  to  need  reference. 
The  loss  and  inconvenience,  the  swindling  and  cor- 
ruption that  flowed  from  the  assumption  by  each 
State  of  the  Union  of  the  power  to  license  banks  of 
issue  ended  with  the  war,  and  no  one  would  now  go 
back  to  them.  Yet  instead  of  doing  what  every 
public  consideration  impels  us  to,  and  assuming 
wholly  and  fully  as  the  exclusive  function  of  the 
General  Government  the  power  to  issue  paper  money, 
the  private  interests  of  bankers  have,  up  to  this, 
compelled  us  to  the  use  of  a  hybrid  currency,  of 
which  a  large  part,  though  guaranteed  by  the  Gen- 
eral Government,  is  issued  and  made  profitable  to- 
corporations.  The  legitimate  business  of  banking — 
the  safe  keeping  and  loaning  of  money,  and  the 
making  and  exchange  of  credits,  is  properly  left  to 
individuals  and  associations ;  but  by  leaving  to  them, 
even  in  part  and  under  restrictions  and  guarantees, 
the  issuance  of  money,  the  people  of  the  United 
States  suffer  an  annual  loss  of  millions  of  dollars. 


THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  GOVERNMENT.       2i5 

and  sensibly  increase  the  influences  wliicli  exert  a 
corrupting  effect  upon  their  government. 

The  principle  evident  here  may  be  seen  in  even 
stronger  light  in  another  department  of  social  life. 

The  great  "railroad  question,"  with  its  dangers 
and  perplexities,  is  a  most  striking  instance  of  tlie 
evil  consequences  which  result  from  the  failure  of 
the  State  to  assume  functions  that  properly  belong 
to  it. 

In  rude  stages  of  social  development,  and  where 
government,  neglectful  of  its  proper  functions,  has 
been  occupied  in  making  needless  wars  and  im- 
posing harmful  restrictions,  the  making  and  im- 
provement of  highways  has  been  left  to  individuals, 
who,  to  recompense  themselves,  have  been  per- 
mitted to  exact  tolls.  It  has,  however,  from  the 
first,  been  recognized  that  these  tolls  are  properly 
subject  to  governmental  control  and  regulation. 
But  the  great  inconveniences  of  this  system,  and 
the  heavy  taxes  which,  in  spite  of  attempted 
regulation,  are  under  it  levied  upon  production, 
have  led,  as  social  advance  went  on,  to  the  assump- 
tion of  the  making  and  maintenance  of  highroads 
as  a  governmental  duty.  In  the  course  of  social 
development  came  the  invention  of  the  railroad, 
which  merged  the  business  of  making  and  main- 
taining roads  with  the  business  of  carrying  freight 
and  passengers  upon  them.  It  is  probably  due  to 
this  that  it  was  not  at  first  recognized  that  the  same 


246  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

reasons  which  render  it  necessary  for  the  State  to 
make  and  maintain  common  roads  apply  witli  even 
greater  force  to  the  building  and  operating  of  railroads. 
In  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  and,  with 
partial  exceptions,  in  other  coLintries,  railroads  have 
been  left  to  private  enterprise  to  build  and  private 
greed  to  manage.  In  the  United  States,  where  rail- 
roads are  of  more  importance  than  in  any  other 
country  in  the  world,  our  only  recognition  of  their 
public  character  has  been  in  the  donation  of  lands 
and  the  granting  of  subsidies,  which  have  been  the 
cause  of  much  corruption,  and  in  some  feeble  attempts 
to  regulate  fares  and  freights. 

But  the  fact  that  the  railroad  system  as  far  as  yet 
developed  (and  perhaps  necessarily)  combines  trans- 
portation with  the  maintenance  of  roadways,  renders 
competition  all  the  more  impossible,  and  brings  it 
still  more  clearly  within  the  province  of  the  State. 
That  it  makes  the  assumption  of  the  railroad  busi- 
ness by  the  State  a  most  serious  matter  is  not  to  be 
denied.  Even  if  it  were  possible,  which  may  well  be 
doubted,  as  has  been  sometimes  proposed,  to  have 
the  roadway  maintained  by  the  State,  leaving  the  fur- 
nishing of  trains  to  private  enterprise,  it  would  be 
still  a  most  serious  matter.  But  look  at  it  which 
way  we  may,  it  is  so  serious  a  matter  that  it  must  be 
faced.  As  the  individual  grows  from  childhood  to 
maturity,  he  must  meet  difficulties  and  accept  respon- 
sibilities from  which  he  well  might  shrink.     So  is  it 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVEENMENT.  247 

witli  society.  New  powers  bring  new  duties  and  new 
responsibilities.  Imprudence  in  going  forw  a*d  in- 
volves danger,  but  it  is  fatal  to  stand  still.  And  how- 
ever great  be  the  difficulties  involved  in  the  assump- 
tion of  the  railroad  business  by  the  State,  much 
greater  difficulties  are  involved  in  the  refusal  to 
assume  it. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  any  elaborate  argu- 
ment to  show  that  the  ownership  and  management 
of  railroads  is  a  function  of  the  State.  That  is 
proved  beyond  dispute  by  the  logic  of  events  and  of 
existing  facts.  Nothing  is  more  obvious  —  at  least 
in  the  United  States,  where  the  tendencies  of  modern 
development  may  be  seen  much  more  clearly  than 
in  Europe  —  than  that  a  union  of  railroading  with 
the  other  functions  of  government  is  inevitable. 
We  may  not  like  it,  but  we  cannot  avoid  it.  Either 
government  must  manage  the  railroads,  or  the  rail- 
roads must  manage  th^  government.  There  is  no 
escape.  To  refuse  one  horn  of  the  dilemma  is  to  be 
impaled  on  the  other. 

As  for  any  satisfactory  State  regulation  of  railroads, 
the  experience  of  our  States  shows  it  to  be  impos- 
sible. A  strong-willed  despot,  clothed  with  arbi- 
trary power,  might  curb  such  leviathans  ;  but  popu- 
lar governments  cannot.  The  power  of  the  whole 
people  is,  of  course,  greater  than  the  power  of  the 
railroads,  but  it  cannot  be  exerted  steadily  and  in 
details.     Even  a  small  special  interest  is,  by  reason 


248  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

of  its  intelligence,  compactness  and  flexibility,  more 
than  a  match  for  large  and  vague  general  interests  ; 
it  has  the  advantage  which  belongs  to  a  well-armed 
and  disciplined  force  in  dealing  with  a  mob.  But 
in  the  number  of  its  employes,  the  amount  of  its 
revenues,  and  the  extent  of  the  interests  which  it 
controls,  the  railroad  power  is  gigantic.  And,  grow- 
ing faster  than  the  growth  <1f  the  country,  it  is  tend- 
ing still  faster  to  concentration.  It  may  be  that  the 
man  is  already  born  who  will  control  the  whole 
railroad  system  of  the  United  States,  as  Yanderbilt, 
Gould  and  Huntingdon  now  control  great  sections 
of  it. 

Practical  politicians  all  over  the  United  States 
recognize  the  utter  hopelessness  of  contending  with 
the  railroad  power.  In  many  if  not  in  most  of  the 
States,  no  prudent  man  will  run  for  office  if  he  be- 
lieves the  railroad  power  is.  against  him.  Yet  in  the 
direct  appeal  to  the  people  a  power  of  this  kind 
is  weakest,  and  railroad  kings  rule  States  where, 
on  any  issues  that  came  fairly  before  the  people, 
they  would  be  voted  down.  It  is  by  throwing  their 
weight  into  primaries,  and  managing  conventions, 
by  controlling  the  press,  manipulating  legislatures, 
and  filling  the  bench  with  their  creatures,  that  the 
railroads  best  exert  political  power.  The  people 
of  California,  for  instance,  have  voted  against 
the  railroad  time  and  again,  or  rather  imagined 
they   did,    and    even    adopted    a   very   bad    new 


THE   FUNCTIONS   OF    GOVERNMENT.  249 

constitution  because  they  supposed  the  railroad  was 
against  it.  The  result  is,  that  the  great  railroad 
company,  of  whose  domain  California,  with  an 
area  greater  than  twice  that  of  Great  Britain,  is 
but  one  of  the  provinces,  absolutely  dominates  the 
State.  The  men  who  really  fought  it  are  taken 
into  its  service  or  crushed,  and  powers  are  exerted 
in  the  interests  of  the  corporation  managers  which 
no  government  would  dare  attempt.  This  com- 
pany, heavily  subsidized,  in  the  first  place,  as 
a  great  public  convenience,  levies  on  commerce, 
not  tolls,  but  tariiFs.  If  a  man  goes  into  business 
requiring  transportation  he  must  exhibit  his  profits 
and  take  it  into  partnership  for  the  lion's  share. 
Importers  are  bound  by  an  "iron-clad  agreement'' 
to  give  its  agents  access  to  their  books,  and  if  they 
do  anything  the  company  deems  against  its  interests 
they  are  fined  or  ruined  by  being  placed  at  a  dis- 
advantage to  their  rival i  in  business.  Three  con- 
tinental railroads,  heavily  subsidized  by  the  nation 
under  the  impression  that  the  competition  would 
keep  down  rates,  have  now  reached  the  Pacific. 
Instead  of  competing  they  have  pooled  their  receipts. 
The  line  of  steamers  from  San  Francisco  to  New 
York  via  the  Isthmus  receives  $100,000  a  month  to 
keep  up  fares  and  freights  to  a  level  with  those 
exacted  by  the  railroad,  and  if  you  would  send 
goods  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco  by  way  of 
the  Isthmus,  the  cheapest  way  is  to  first  sliip  them 


250  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

to  England.  Shippers  to  interior  points  are 
charged  as  much  as  though  their  goods  were  carried 
to  the  end  of  the  road  and  then  shipped  back  again  ; 
and  even,  by  means  of  the  agreements  mentioned, 
an  embargo  is  laid  upon  ocean  commerce  by  sailing 
vessels,  wherever  it  might  interfere  with  the  mo- 
nopoly. 

I  speak  of  California  only  as  an  instance.  The 
power  of  the  railroads  is  apparent  in  State  after 
State,  as  it  is  in  the  National  Government.  Noth-, 
ing  can  be  clearer  than  that,  if  present  conditions 
must  continue,  the  American  people  might  as  well 
content  themselves  to  surrender  political  power 
to  these  great  corporations  and  their  affiliated 
interests.  There  is  no  escape  from  this.  The  rail- 
road managers  cannot  keep  out  of  politics,  even  if 
they  wished  to.  The  difficulties  of  the  railroad 
question  do  not  arise  from  the  fact  that  peculiarly 
bad  men  have  got  control  of  the  railroads  ;  they 
arise  from  the  nature  of  the  railroad  business  and 
its  intimate  relations  to  other  interests  and  indus- 
tries. 

But  it  will  be  said,  ''If  the  railroads  are  even 
now  a  corrupting  element  in  our  politics,  what 
would  they  be  if  the  government  were  to  own  and 
to  attempt  to  run  them  ?  Is  not  governmental  man- 
agement notoriously  corrupt  and  inefficient  ?  Would 
not  the  effect  of  adding  such  a  vast  army  to  the 
already  great  number  of  government  employes,  of 


THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   GOVERNMENT.  251 

increasing  so  enormously  the  revenues  and  expendi- 
tures of  government,  be  to  enable  those  who  got  con- 
trol of  government  to  defy  opposition  and  perpet- 
uate their  power  indefinitely  ;  and  would  it  not  be, 
finally,  to  sink  the  whole  political  organization  in  a 
hopeless  slough  of  corruption  ? " 

My  reply  is,  that  great  as  these  dangers  may  be, 
they  must  be  faced,  lest  worse  befall  us.  When  a 
gale  sets  him  on  a  lee  shore,  the  seaman  must  make 
sail,  even  at  the  risk  of  having  his  canvas  fly  from 
the  bolt-ropes  and  his  masts  go  by  the  board.  The 
dangers  of  wind  and  sea  urge  him  to  make  every- 
thing snug  as  may  be,  alow  and  aloft ;  to  get  rid  of 
anything  that  might  diminish  the  weatherly  quali- 
ties of  his  ship,  and  to  send  his  best  helmsmen  to 
the  wheel, — not  to  supinely  accept  the  certain 
destruction  of  the  rocks. 

Instead  of  belittling  the  dangers  of  adding  to  the 
functions  of  government  as  it  is  at  present,  what  I 
am  endeas^oring  to  point  out  is  the  urgent  necessity 
of  simplifying  and  improving  government,  that  it 
may  safely  assume  the  additional  functions  that 
social  development  forces  upon  it.  It  is  not  merely 
necessary  to  prevent  government  from  getting  more 
corrupt  and  more  inefficient,  though  we  can  no 
more  do  that  by  a  negative  policy  than  the  seaman 
can  lay-to  in  a  gale  without  drifting  ;  it  is  necessary 
to  make  government  much  more  efficient  and 
much  less  corrupt.     The  dangers  tliat  menace  lis 


252  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS, 

are  not  accidental.  Thej  spring  from  a  universal 
law  wliicli  we  cannot  escape.  That  law  is 
the  one  I  pointed  out  in  the  first  chapter  of 
this  book — that  every  advance  brings  new  dangei'S 
and  requires  higher  and  more  alert  intelligence.  As 
the  more  highly  organized  animal  cannot  live  unless  it 
have  a  more  fully  developed  brain  than  those  of  lower 
animal  organizations,  so  the  more  highly  organized 
society  must  perish  unless  it  bring  to  the  manage- 
ment of  social  aifairs  greater  intelligence  and  higher 
moral  sense.  The  great  material  advances  which 
modern  invention  have  enabled  us  to  make,  neces- 
sitate corresponding  social  and  political  advances. 
Nature  knows  no  "Baby  Act."  We  m^ust  live  up 
to  her  conditions  or  not  live  at  all. 

My  purpose  here  is  to  show  how  important  it  is 
that  we  simplify  government,  purify  politics  and 
improve  social  conditions,  as  a  preliminary  to  show- 
ing how  much  in  all  these  directions  may  be  accom- 
plished by  one  single  great  reform.  But  although 
I  shall  be  obliged  to  do  so  briefly,  it  may  be  worth 
while,  even  if  briefly,  to  call  attention  to  some 
principles  that  should  not  be  forgotten  in  thinking 
of  the  assumption  by  the  State  of  such  functions  as 
the  running  of  railroads. 

In  the  first  place,  I  think  it  may  be  accepted  as  a 
principle  proved  by  experience,  that  any  consider- 
able interest  having  necessary  relations  with  govern- 
ment is  more  corruptive  of  government  when  acting 


THE   FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  253 

upon  government  from  without  than  when  assumed 
bj  government.  Let  a  ship  in  midocean  drop  her 
anchor  and  pay  out  her  cable,  and  though  she  would 
be  relieved  of  some  weight,  since  part  of  the  weight 
of  anchor  and  cable  would  be  supported  by  the 
water,  not  only  would  her  progress  be  retarded,  but 
^le  would  refuse  to  answer  her  helm,  and  become 
utterly  unmanageable.  Yet,  assumed  as  part  of  the 
ship,  and  properly  stowed  on  board,  anchor  and 
cable  no  longer  perceptibly  interfere  with  her  move- 
ments. 

A  standing  army  is  a  corrupting  influence,  and  a 
danger  to  popular  liberties ;  but  wdio  would  main- 
tain that  on  this  ground  it  were  wiser,  if  a  standing 
army  must  be  kept,  that  it  should  be  enlisted  and 
paid  by  private  parties,  and  hired  of  them  by  the 
state  ?  Such  an  army  would  be  far  more  corrupting 
and  far  more  dangerous  than  one  maintained  directly 
by  the  state,  and  would  soon  make  its  leaders 
masters  of  the  state. 

I  do  not  think  the  postal  department  of  the 
government,  with  its  extensive  ramifications  and  its 
numerous  employes,  begins  to  be  as  important  a 
factor  in  our  politics,  or  exerts  so  corrupting  an  influ- 
ence, as  would  a  private  corporation  carrying  on  this 
business,  and  wdiich  would  be  constantly  tempted 
or  forced  into  politics  to  procure  favorable  or  prevent 
unfavorable  legislation.  Where  individual  States 
and  the  General  Government  have  substituted  public 


254  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

printing-offices  for  Public  Printers,  who  themselves 
furnished  material  and  hired  laboi',  I  think  the 
result  has  been  to  lessen,  not  to  increase,  corruptive 
influences  ;  and  speaking  generally,  I  think  experi- 
ence shows  that  in  all  departments  of  government 
the  system  of  contracting  for  work  and  supplies  has, 
on  the  whole,  led  to  more  corruption  than  the  system 
of  direct  employment.  The  reason  I  take  to  be,  that 
there  is  in  one  case  a  much  greater  concentration  of 
corruptive  interests  and  power  than  in  the  other. 
The  inefficiency,  extravagance  and  corruption 
which  we  commonlj^  attribute  to  governmental 
management  are  mostly  in  those  departments  which 
do  not  come  under  the  public  eye,  and  little  concern, 
if  they  concern  at  all,  public  convenience.  Whether 
the  six  new  steel  crusiers  which  the  persistent  lobby- 
ing of  contractors  has  induced  Congress  to  order, 
are  well  or  illy  built  the  American  people  will 
never  know,  except  as  they  learn  through  the  news- 
papers, and  the  fact  will  no  more  affect  their  com- 
fort and  convenience  than  does  the  fitting  of  the 
Sultan's  new  breeches,  or  the  latest  changes  in 
officers'  uniforms  which  it  has  pleased  the  Secretary 
of  the  Navy  to  order.  But  let  the  mails  go  astray 
or  the  postman  fail  in  his  rounds,  and  there  is  at 
once  an  outcry.  The  postoffice  department  is  man- 
aged with  greater  efficiency  than  any  other  depart- 
ment of  the  national  government,  because  it  comes 
close  to  the  people.     To  say  the  very  least,  it  is 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  255 

managed  as  efficiently  as  any  private  company 
could  manage  such  a  vast  business,  and  I  tliink,  on 
the  whole,  as  economically.  And  the  scandals  and 
abuses  that  have  arisen  in  it  have  been,  for  the 
most  part,  as  to  out-of-the-way  places,  and  things  of 
which  there  was  little  or  no  public  consciousness. 
So  in  England,  the  telegraph  and  parcel-carrying  and 
savings  bank  businesses  are  managed  by  govern- 
ment more  efficiently  and  economically  than  before 
by  private  corporations. 

Like  these  businesses  —  perhaps  even  more  so  — 
the  railroad  business  comes  directly  under  the  notice 
of  the  people.  It  so  immediately  concerns  the 
interests,  the  convenience  and  the  safety  of  the 
great  body,  that  under  public  management  it  would 
compel  that  close  and  quick  attention  that  secures 
efficiency. 

It  seems  to  me  that  in  regard  to  public  affairs  we 
too  easily  accept  the  dictum  that  faithful  and 
efficient  work  can  only  be  secured  by  the  hopes  of 
pecuniary  profit,  or  the  fear  of  pecuniary  loss.  We 
get  faithful  and  efficient  work  in  our  coUef  es  and 
similar  institutions  without  this,  not  to  speak  of  the 
army  and  navy,  or  of  the  postal  and  educational 
departments  of  government ;  and  be  this  as  it  may, 
our  railroads  are  really  run  by  men  who,  from 
switch-tender  to  general  superintendent,  have  no 
pecuniary  interest  in  the  business  other  than  to 
get  their  pay  — in  most  cases  paltry  and  inefficient 


256  SOCIAL   TROBLEMS. 

—  and  liold  their  positions.  Under  governmental 
ownership  they  would  have,  at  the  very  least,  all  the 
incentives  to  faithfulness  and  efficiency  that  they  have 
now,  for  that  governmental  management  of  railroads 
must  involve  the  principles  of  civil  service  reform 
goes  without  the  saying.  The  most  determined 
supporter  of  the  spoils  system  would  not  care  to 
resign  the  safety  of  limb  and  life  to  engineers  and 
brakemen  appointed  for  political  services. 

Look,  moreover,  at  the  railroad  system  as  it  exists 
now.  That  it  is  not  managed  in  the  interests  of  the 
public  is  clear;  but  is  it  managed  in  the  interests 
of  its  owners  ?  Is  it  managed  with  that  economy, 
efficiency  and  intelligence  that  are  presumed 
to  be  the  results  of  private  ownership  and  control  ? 
On  the  contrary,  while  the  public  interests  are 
utterly  disregarded,  the  interests  of  the  stockholders 
are  in  most  cases  little  better  considered.  Our  rail- 
roads are  really  managed  in  the  interests  of  unscru- 
pulous adventurers,  whose  purpose  is  to  bull  and 
bear  the  stock  market ;  by  men  who  make  the  in- 
terests of  the  property  they  manage  subservient  to 
their  personal  interests  in  other  railroads  or  in  other 
businesses;  who  speculate  in  lands  and  townsites, 
who  give  themselves  or  their  friends  contracts  for  sup- 
plies and  special  rates  for  transportation,  and  who 
often  deliberately  wreck  the  corporation  they  control 
and  rob  stockholders  to  the  last  cent.  From  one 
end  to  the  other,  the  management  of  our  railroad 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVEEIs^MENT.  257 

system,  as  it  now  exists,  reeks  with  joDoerj  and 
fraud. 

That  ordinary  roads,  bridges,  etc.,  should  not  be 
maintained  for  profit,  either  public  or  private,  is  an 
accepted  principle,  and  the  State  of  'New  York  has 
recently  gone  so  far  as  to  abolish  all  tolls  on  the 
Erie  canal.  Our  postal  service  we  merely  aim  to 
make  self-sustaining,  and  no  one  would  now  think 
of  proposing  that  the  rates  of  postage  should  be  in- 
creased in  order  to  furnish  public  revenues  ;  still 
less  would  any  one  think  of  proposing  to  abandon 
the  government  postal  service,  and  turn  the  business 
overto  individuals  or  corj3orations.  In  the  begin- 
ning the  postal  service  was  carried  on  by  individuals 
with  a  view  to  profits.  Had  that  system  been  con- 
tinued to  the  present  day,  it  is  certain  that  we 
should  not  begin  to  have  such  extensive  and  regular 
postal  facilities  as  we  have  now,  nor  such  cheap 
rates  ;  and  all  the  objections  that  are  now  urged 
against  the  government  assumption  of  the  railroad 
business  would  be  urged  against  government  carriage 
of  letters.  We  never  can  enjoy  the  full  benefits  of  the 
invention  of  the  railroad  until  we  make  the  railroads 
public  property,  managed  by  public  servants  in  the 
public  interests.  And  thus  will  a  great  cause  of  the 
corruption  of  government,  and  a  great  cause  of 
monstrous  fortunes,  be  destroyed. 

All  I  have  said  of  the  railroad  applies,  of  course, 
to  the  telegraph,  the   telephone,  the  supplying  of 
17 


258  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

cities  with  gas,  water,  heat  and  electricity, — in  short 
to  all  businesses  which  are  in  their  nature  monopo- 
lies. I  speak  of  the  railroad  onlj  because  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  business  makes  its  assumption  by  the 
State  the  most  formidable  of  such  undertakings. 

Businesses  that  are  in  their  nature  monopolies 
are  properly  functions  of  the  State.  The  State  must 
control  or  assume  them,  in  self-defense,  and  for  the 
protection  of  the  equal  rights  of  citizens.  But  beyond 
this,  the  field  in  which  the  State  may  operate  bene- 
fiically  as  the  executive  of  the  great  cooperative  asso- 
ciation, into  which  it  is  the  tendency  of  true  civil- 
ization to  blend  society,  will  widen  with  the  im- 
provement of  government  and  the  growth  of  public 
spirit. 

We  have  already  made  an  important  step  in  this 
direction  in  our  public  school  system.  Our  public 
schools  are  not  maintained  for  the  poor,  as  are  the 
English  board  schools — where,  moreover,  payment 
is  required  from  all  who  can  pay  ;  nor  yet  is  their  main 
motive  the  protection  of  the  State  against  ignorance. 
These  are  subsidiary  motives.  But  the  main  motive 
for  the  maintenance  of  our  public  schools  is,  that  by 
far  the  greater  part  of  our  people  find  them  the  best 
and  most  economical  means  of  educating  their  chil- 
dren. American  society  is,  in  fact,  organized  by  the 
operation  of  government  into  cooperative  educational 
associations,  and  with  such  happy  results  that  in  no 
State  where  the  public  school  system  has  obtained 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT  259 

would  any  proposition  to  abolish  it  get  respectful  con- 
sideration. In  spite  of  the  corruption  of  our  politics, 
our  public  schools  are,  on  the  whole,  much  better 
than  private  schools ;  while  by  their  association  of 
the  children  of  rich  and  poor,  of  Jew  and  Gentile, 
of  Protestant  and  Catholic,  of  Republican  and 
Democrat,  they  are  of  inestimable  value  in  breaking 
down  prejudice  and  checking  the  growth  of  class 
feeling.  It  is  likewise  to  be  remarked  as  to  our 
public  school  system,  that  corruptive  influences  seem 
to  spring  ratlier  from  our  not  having  gone  far 
enough  than  from  our  having  gone  too  far  in  the 
direction  of  State  action.  In  some  of  our  States  the 
books  used  by  the  children  are  supplied  at  public 
expense,  being  considered  school  property,  which 
the  pupil  receives  on  entering  the  school  or  class, 
and  returns  when  leaving.  In  most  of  them,  how- 
ever, the  pupils,  unless  their  parents  cannot  afford 
the  outlay,  are  required  to  furnish  their  own  books. 
Experience  has  shown  the  former  system  to  be 
much  the  best,  not  only  because,  when  books  are 
furnished  to  all,  there  is  no  temptation  of  those  who 
can  afford  to  purchase  books  to  falsely  plead  indi- 
gence, and  no  humiliation  on  the  part  of  those  who 
cannot  ;  but  because  the  number  of  books  required 
is  much  less,  and  they  can  be  purchased  at  cheaper 
rates.  This  not  only  affects  a  large  economy  in  the 
aggregate  expenditure,  but  lessens  an  important 
corruptive  influence.     For  the  strife   of  the  great 


260  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

school-book  publishers  to  get  their  books  adoptea 
in  the  public  schools,  in  which  most  of  them  make 
no  scruple  of  resorting  to  bribery  wherever  they  can, 
has  done  much  to  degrade  the  character  of  school 
boards.  This  corruptive  influence  can  only  be  fully 
done  away  with  by  manufacturing  school-books  at 
public  expense,  as  has  been  in  a  number  of  the 
States  proposed. 

The  public  library  system,  which,  beginning  in 
the  public-spirited  city  of  Boston,  is  steadily  mak- 
ing its  way  over  the  country,  and  under  which  both 
reading  and  lending  libraries  are  maintained  at  pub- 
lic expense  for  the  free  use  of  the  public,  is  another 
instance  of  the  successful  extension  of  the  coopera- 
tive functions  of  government.  So  are  the  public 
parks  and  recreation  grounds  which  we  are  begin- 
ning to  establish. 

Not  only  is  it  possible  to  go  much  further  in  the 
direction  of  thus  providing,  at  public  expense,  for 
the  public  health,  education  and  recreation,  and  for 
public  encouragement  of  science  and  invention,  but 
if  we  can  simplify  and  purify  government  it  will 
become  possible  for  society  in  its  various  subdivi- 
sions to  obtain  in  many  other  ways,  but  in  much 
larger  degree,  those  advantages  for  its  members  that 
voluntary  cooperative  societies  seek  to  obtain.  Not 
only  could  the  most  enormous  economies  thus  be  ob- 
tained, but  the  growing  tendency  to  adulteration  and 
dishonesty,  as  fatal  to  morals  as  to  health,  would 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  261 

be  checked,*  and  at  least  sucli  an  organization  of 
industry  be  reached  as  would  very  greatly  reduce 
the  appropriative  power  of  aggregated  capital,  and 
prevent  those  strifes  that  may  be  likened  to  wars. 
The  natural  progress  of  social  development  is  un- 
mistakably toward  cooperation,  or,  if  the  word  be 
preferred,  toward  socialism,  though  I  dislike  to  use 
a  word  to  which  such  various  and  vague  meanmgs 
are  attached.  Civilization  is  the  art  of  living  to- 
gether in  closer  relations.  That  mankind  should 
dwell  together  in  unity  is  the  evident  intent  of  the 
Divine  mind,  —  of  that  Will,  expressed  in  the  immu- 
table laws  of  the  physical  and  moral  universe  which 
reward  obedience  and  punish  disobedience.  The 
dangers  which  menace  modern  society  are  but  the 
reverse  of  blessings  which  modern  society  may 
grasp.  The  concentration  that  is  going  on  in  all 
branches  of  industry  is  a  necessary  tendency  of  our 
advance  in  the  material  arts.  It  is  not  in  itself  an 
evil.  If  in  anything  its  results  are  evil,  it  is  simply 
because  of  our  bad  social  adjustments.  The  con- 
struction of  this  world  in  which  we  find  ourselves  is 
such  that  a  thousand  men  working  together  can  pro- 


*  There  are  many  manufactured  articles  for  which  the  producer  now 
receives  only  a  third  of  the  price  paid  by  the  consumer,  -"'hile  adultera- 
tion has  gone  far  beyond  detection  by  the  individual  purchaser.  Not  to 
speak  of  the  compounding  of  liquors,  of  oleomargarine  and  glucose,  a 
single  instance  will  show  how  far  adulteration  is  carried.  The  adultera- 
tions in  ground  coffee  have  driven  many  people  to  purchase  their  coffee 
in  the  bean  and  grind  it  themselves.  To  meet  this,  at  least  one  firm  of 
large  coffee-roasters,  and  I  presume  most  of  them,  have  adopted  an 
invention  by  means  of  which  imitation  coffee  beans,  exactly  resembling 
in  appearance  the  genuine  article,  are  stamped  out  of  a  paste.  These 
they  mix  in  large  quantities  with  real  coffee. 


262  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

duce  mai]j  times  more  than  the  same  thousand  men 
working  singly.  But  this  does  not  make  it  neces- 
sary that  the  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  must  be 
the  virtual  slaves  of  the  one. 

Let  me  repeat  it,  though  again  and  again,  -for  it  is, 
it  seems  to  me,  the  great  lesson  which  existing  social 
facts  impress  upon  him  who  studies  them,  and  that 
it  is  all-important  that  we  should  heed.  The  nat- 
ural laws  which  permit  of  social  advance,  require 
that  advance  to  be  intellectual  and  moral  as  well 
as  material.  The  natural  laws  which  give  us  the 
steamship,  the  locomotive,  the  telegraph,  the  print- 
ing press,  and  all  the  thousand  inventions  by  which 
our  mastery  over  matter  and  material  conditions  is 
increased,  require  greater  social  intelligence  and  a 
higher  standard  of  social  morals.  Especially  do 
they  make  more  and  more  imperative  that  justice 
between  man  and  man  which  demands  the  recogni- 
tion of  the  equality  of  natural  rights. 

''Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  right- 
eousness [right  or  just  doing]  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  Tlie  first  step  toward 
a  natural  and  healthy  organization  of  society  is  to 
secure  to  all  men  their  natural,  equal  and  inalien- 
able rights  in  the  material  universe.  To  do  this  is 
not  to  do  everything  that  may  be  necessary ;  but  it 
is  to  make  all  else  easier.  And  unless  we  do  this 
nothing  else  will  avail. 

I  have   in   this    chapter    touched    briefly    upon 


THE    FUNCTIONS    OF    GOVERNMENT.  263 

subjects  that  for  thorough  treatment  would  require 
much  more  space.  Mj  purpose  has  been  to  show 
that  the  simplification  and  purification  of  govern- 
ment is  rendered  the  more  necessary,  on  account  of 
functions  which  industrial  development  is  forcing 
upon  government,  and  the  further  functions  which 
it  is  becoming  more  and  more  evident  that  it  would 
be  advantageous  for  government  to  assume.  In 
succeeding  chapters  I  propose  to  show  how,  by 
recognizing  in  practicable  method  the  equal  and 
inalienable  rights  of  men  to  the  soil  of  their  country, 
government  may  be  greatly  simplified,  and  corrupt- 
ing influences  destroyed.  For  it  is  indeed  true,  as 
the  French  Assembly  declared,  that  public  misfor- 
tunes and  corruptions  of  government  spring  from 
ignorance,  neglect  or  contempt  of  human  rights. 

Of  course  in  this  chapter  and  elsewhere  in  speak- 
ing of  government,  the  state,  the  community,  etc., 
I  use  these  terms  in  a  general  sense,  without  refer- 
ence to  existing  political  divisions.  What  should 
properly  belong  to  the  township  or  ward,  what  to 
the  county  or  state,  what  to  the  nation,  and  what 
to  such  federations  of  nations  as  it  is  in  the  manifest 
line  of  civilization  to  evolve,  is  a  matter  into  which 
I  have  not  entered.  As  to  the  proper  organization 
of  government,  and  the  distribution  of  powers,  there 
is  much  need  for  thought. 


CHAPTEE  XYIII. 

WHAT   WE   MUST   DO. 

At  the  risk  of  repetition  let  me  recapitulate  : 
The  main  source  of  tlie  difficulties  that  menace 
us  is  the  growing  inequality  in  the  distribution  of 
wealth.  To  this  all  modern  inventiors  seem  to 
contribute,  and  the  movement  is  hastened  by  politi- 
cal corruption,  and  by  special  monopolies  established 
by  abuse  of  legislative  power.  But  the  primary 
cause  lies  evidently  in  fundamental  social  adjust- 
ments—  in  the  relations  which  we  have  established 
between  labor  and  the  natural  material  and  means 
of  labor — between  man  and  the  planet  which  is 
his  dwelling-place,  workshop  and  storehouse.  As 
the  earth  must  be  the  foundation  of  every  material 
structure,  so  institutions  which  regulate  the  use  of 
land  constitute  the  foundation  of  every  social  organi- 
zation, and  must  affect  the  whole  character  and 
development  of  that  organization.  In  a  society 
where  the  equality  of  natural  rights  is  recognized,  it 
is  manifest  that  there  can  be  no  great  disparity  in 
fortunes.  None  except  the  physically  incapacitated 
will  be  dependent  on  others  ;  none  will  be  forced  to 
sell  their  labor  to  others.  There  will  be  differences 
in  wealth,  for  there  are  differences  among  men  as  to 

264 


WHAT    WE    MUST    DO.  265 

energy,  skill,  prudence,  foresight  and  industry ;  but 
there  can  be  no  very  rich  class,  and  no  very  poor 
class ;  and,  as  each  generation  becomes  possessed  of 
equal  natural  opportunities,  whatever  differences  in 
fortune  grow  up  in  one  generation  will  not  tend  to 
perpetuate  themselves.  In  such  a  community,  what- 
ever may  be  its  form,  the  political  organization  must 
be  essentially  democratic. 

But,  in  a  community  where  the  soil  is  treated  as 
the  property  of  but  a  portion  of  the  people,  some 
of  these  people  from  the  very  day  of  their  birth 
must  be  at  a  disadvantage,  and  some  will  have  an 
enormous  advantage.  Those  who  have  no  rights  in 
the  land  will  be  forced  to  sell  their  labor  to  the  land- 
holders for  what  they  can  get ;  and,  in  fact,  cannot 
live  without  the  landlords'  permission.  Such  a 
community  must  inevitably  develop  a  class  of  mas- 
ters and  a  class  of  serfs  —  a  class  possessing  great 
wealth,  and  a  class  having  nothing  ;  and  its  political 
organization,  no  matter  what  its  form,  must  become 
a  virtual  despotism. 

Our  fundamental  mistake  is  in  treating  land  as 
private  property.  On  this  false  basis  modern  civili- 
zation everywhere  rests,  and  hence,  as  material 
progress  goes  on,  is  everywhere  developing  such 
monstrous  irfequalities  in  condition  as  must  "ulti- 
mately destroy  it.  As  without  land  man  cannot 
exist ;  as  his  very  physical  substance,  and  all  that 
he  can  acquire  or  make,  must  be  drawn  from  the 


^66  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

land,  the  ownership  of  the  land  of  a  country  is 
necessarily  the  ownership  of  the  people  of  that 
country  —  involving  their  industrial,  social  and 
political  subjection.  Here  is  the  great  reason  why 
the  labor-saving  inventions,  of  which  our  century 
has  been  so  strikingly  prolific,  have  signally  failed 
to  improve  the  condition  of  laborers.  Labor-saving 
inventions  primarily  increase  the  power  of  labor, 
and  should,  therefore,  increase  wages  and  improve 
the  condition  of  the  laboring  classes.  But  this  only 
where  land  is  free  to  labor ;  for  labor  cannot  exert 
itself  without  land.  No  labor-saving  inventions  can 
enable  us  to  make  something  out  of  nothing,  or  in 
anywise  lessen  our  dependence  upon  land.  They 
can  merely  add  to  the  efficiency  of  labor  in  working 
up  the  raw  materials  drawn  from  land.  Therefore, 
wherever  land  has  been  subjected  to  private  owner- 
ship, the  ultimate  effect  of  labor-saving  inventions, 
and  of  all  improved  processes  and  discoveries,  is  to 
enable  landowners  to  demand,  and  labor  to  pay, 
more  for  the  use  of  land.  Land  becomes  more 
valuable,  but  the  wages  of  labor  do  not  increase  ;  on 
the  contrary,  if  there  is  any  margin  for  possible 
reductions,  they  may  be  absolutely  reduced. 

This  we  already  see,  and  that  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  a  very  important  part  of  the  efect  of  modern 
invention  has  been  by  the  improvement  of  trans- 
portation to  open  up  new  land.  What  will  be 
the  effect  of  continued  improvement  in  industrial 


WHAT  WE    MUSI    DO.  267 

processes  when  the  land  of  this  continent  is  all 
"fenced  in,"  as  in  a  few  more  years  it  will  be,  we 
may  imagine  if  we  consider  what  would  have  been 
the  eifect  of  labor-saving  inventions  upon  Europe 
had  no  l^ew  World  been  opened. 

But  it  may  be  said  tliat,  in  asserting  that  where 
land  is  private  property  tlie  benefit  of  industrial 
improvements  goes  ultimately  to  landowners,  I 
ignore  facts,  and  attribute  to  one  principle  more  im- 
portance than  is  its  due,  since  it  is  clear  that  a  great 
deal  of  the  increased  wealth  arising  from  modern 
improvements  has  not  gone  to  the  owners  of  land, 
but  to  capitalists,  manufacturers,  speculators,  rail- 
road owners,  and  the  holders  of  other  monopolies 
than  that  of  land.  It  may  be  pointed  out  that 
the  richest  family  in  Europe  are  the  Eothschilds, 
who  are  more  loan-jobbers  and  bankers  than  land- 
owners ;  that  the  richest  in  America  are  the  Yander- 
bilts,  and  not  the  Astors  ;  that  Jay  Gould  got  his 
money,  not  by  securing  land,  but  by  bulling  and 
bearing  the  stock  market,  by  robbing  people  with 
hired  lawyers  and  purchased  judges  and  corrupted 
legislatures.  I  may  be  asked  if  I  attach  no  impor- 
tance to  the  jobbery  and  robbery  of  the  tariff,  under 
pretense  of  "protecting  American  labor";  to  the 
jugglery  with  the  monetary  system,  from  the  wild- 
cat State  banks  and  national  banking  system  down 
to  the  trade-dollar  swindle  ? 

In  previous  chapters  I  have  given  answers  to  all 


268  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

such  objections  ;  but  to  repeat  in  concise  form,  my 
reply  is,  that  I  do  not  ignore  any  of  these  things, 
but  tliat  they  in  nowise  invalidate  the  self-evi- 
dent principle  that  land  being  private  property,  the' 
ultimate  benefit  of  all  improvements  in  production 
must  go  to  the  landowners.  To  say  that  if  a  man  con- 
tinues to  play  at  "rondo"  the  table  will  ultimately 
get  his  money,  is  not  to  say  that  in  the  meantime  he 
may  not  have  his  pocket  picked.  Let  me  illustrate  : 
Suppose  an  island,  the  soil  of  which  is  conceded 
to  be  the  property  of  a  few  of  the  inhabitants.  The 
rest  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  must  either  hire 
land  of  these  landowners,  paying  rent  for  it,  or  sell 
their  labor  to  them,  receiving  wages.  As  population 
increases,  the  competition  between  the  non-land- 
owners for  employment  or  the  means  of  employment 
must  increase  rent  and  decrease  wages  until  the 
non-landowners  get  merely  a  bare  living,  and  the 
landholders  get  all  the  rest  of  the  produce  of  the 
island.  Now,  suppose  any  improvement  or  inven- 
tion made  which  will  increase  the  efficiency  of  labor, 
it  is  manifest  that,  as  soon  as  it  becomes  general, 
the  competition  between  the  non-landholders  must 
give  to  the  landholders  all  the  benefit.  No  matter 
how  great  the  improvement  be,  it  can  have  but  this 
ultimate  result.  If  the  improvements  are  so  great 
that  all  the  wealth  the  island  can  produce  or  that 
the  landowners  care  for  can  be  obtained  with  one- 
half  the  labor,  they  can  let  the  other  half  of  the 


WHAT   WE    MUST    DO.  269 

laborers  starve  or  evict  them  into  the  sea ;  or  if  they 
are  pious  people  of  the  conventional  sort,  who 
believe  that  God  Almighty  intended  these  laborers 
to  live,  though  he  did  not  provide  any  land  for  tliem 
to  live  on,  they  may  support  them  as  paupers  or 
ship  them  oft'  to  some  other  country  as  the  English 
Government  is  shipping  the  ''surplus"  Irishmen. 
But  whether  they  let  them  die  or  keep  them  alive, 
they  would  have  no  use  for  them,  and,  if  improve- 
ment still  went  on,  tliey  would  have  use  for  less  and 
less  of  them. 

This  is  the  general  principle. 

But  in  addition  to  this  population  of  landowners 
and  their  tenants  and  laborers,  let  us  suppose 
there  to  be  on  the  island  a  storekeeper,  an  inventor, 
a  gambler  and  a  pirate.  To  make  our  supposition 
conform  to  modern  fashions,  we  will  suppose  a 
highly  respectable  gambler — one  of  the  kind  who 
endows  colleges  and  subscribes  to  the  conversion  of 
the  heathen  —  and  a  very  gentlemanly  pirate,  who 
flies  on  his  swift  cruiser  the  ensign  of  a  yacht  club 
instead  of  the  old  raw  head  and  bloody  bones,  but 
who,  even  more  regularly  and  efticiently  than  the 
old-fashioned  pirate,  levies  his  toll. 

Let  us  suppose  the  storekeeper,  the  gambler  and 
the  pirate  well  established  in  business  and  making 
money.  Along  comes  the  inventor,  and  says : 
'•I  have  an  invention  which  will  greatly  add  to  the 
efficiency  of  labor  and  enable  you  to  greatly  increase 


270  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

the  produce  of  this  island,  so  that  there  will  he  very 
much  more  to  divide  among  you  all ;  but,  as  a  con- 
dition for  telling  you  of  it,  I  want  you  to  agree  that 
I  shall  have  a  royalty  upon  its  use. "  This  is  agreed 
to,  the  invention  is  adopted,  and  does  greatly 
increase  the  production  of  wealth.  But  it  does  not 
benefit  the  laborers.  The  competition  between 
them  still  forces  them  to  pay  such  high  rent  or  take 
such  low  wages  that  they  are  no  better  off  than 
before.  They  stiL  barely  live.  But  the  whole 
benefit  of  the  invention  does  not  in  this  case 
go  to  the  landowners.  The  inventor's  royalty  gives 
him  a  great  income,  while  the  storekeeper,  the 
gambler  and  the  pirate  all  find  their  incomes  much 
increased.  Tlie  incomes  of  each  one  of  these  four, 
we  may  readily  suppose,  are  larger  than  any  single 
one  of  the  landowners,  and  their  gains  offer  the 
most  striking  contrast  to  the  poverty  of  the  laborers, 
who  are  bitterly  disappointed  at  not  getting  any 
share  of  the  increased  wealth  that  followed  the 
improvement.  Something  they  feel  is  wrong,  and 
some  among  them  even  begin  to  murmur  that  the 
Creator  of  the  island  surely  did  not  make  it  for  the 
benefit  of  only  a  few  of  its  inhabitants,  and  that,  as 
the  common  creatures  of  the  Creator,  they,  too,  have 
some  rights  to  the  use  of  the  soil  of  the  island. 

Suppose  then  some  one  to  arise  and  say :  "What 
is  the  use  of  discussing  such  abstractions  as  the 
land   question,    that    cannot    come    into   practical 


WHAT  WE    MUST    DO.  271 

politics  for  many  a  day,  and  that  can  only  excite 
dissension  and  general  unpleasantness,  and  that, 
moreover,  savor  of  communism,  which  as  you 
laborers,  who  have  nothing  but  your  few  rags,  very 
well  know  is  a  highly  wicked  and  dangerous  thing, 
meaning  the  robbery  of  widow  women  and  orphans, 
and  being  opposed  to  religion  ?  Let  us  be  practical. 
You  laborers  are  poor  and  can  scarcely  get  a  living, 
because  y.ou  are  swindled  by  the  storekeeper,  taxed 
by  the  inventor,  gouged  by  the  gambler  and  robbed 
by  the  pirate.  Landholders  and  non-landholders, 
our  interests  are  in  common  as  against  these  vam- 
pires. Let  us  unite  to  stop  their  exactions.  The  store- 
keeper makes  a  profit  of  from  ten  to  fifty  per  cent 
on  all  that  he  sells.  Let  us  form  a  cooperative 
society,  which  will  sell  ever^'thing  at  cost  and  enable 
laborers  to  get  rich  by  saving  the  storekeeper's 
profit  on  all  that  they  use.  As  for  the  inventor,  he 
has  been  already  well  enough  paid.  Let  us  stop  his 
royalty,  and  there  will  be  so  much  more  to  divide 
between  the  landowners  and  the  non-landowners. 
As  for  the  gambler  and  the  pirate,  let  us  put  a  sum- 
mary end  to  their  proceedings  and  drive  them  ofif 
the  island  ! " 

Let  us  imagine  a  roar  of  applause,  and  these  pro- 
positions carried  out.  AVhat  then?  Then  the  land- 
owners would  become  so  much  the  richer.  The 
laborers  would  gain  nothing,  unless  it  might  be  in  a 


272  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

clearer  apprehension  of  tlie  ultimate  cause  of  tlieir 
poverty.  For,  although  by  getting  rid  of  the  store- 
keeper, the  laborers  might  be  able  to  live  cheaper, 
the  competition  between  them  would  soon  force 
them  to  give  up  this  advantage  to  the  landowners 
by  taking  lower  wages  or  giving  higher  rents.  And 
so  the  elimination  of  the  inventor's  royalty,  and  of 
the  pickings  and  stealings  of  the  gambler  and  pirate, 
would  only  make  land  more  valuable  and  increase 
the  incomes  of  the  landholders.  The  saving  made 
by  getting  rid  of  the  storekeeper,  inventor,  gambler 
and  pirate  would  accrue  to  their  benefit,  as  did  the 
increase  in  production  from  the  application  of  the 
invention. 

That  all  this  is  true  we  may  see,  as  I  have  shown. 
The  growth  of  the  railroad  system  has,  for  instance, 
resulted  in  putting  almost  the  whole  transportation 
business  of  the  country  in  the  hands  of  giant  mo- 
nopolies, who,  for  the  most  part,  charge  ''  what  the 
traffic  will  bear,"  and  who  frequently  discriminate 
in  the  most  outrageous  way  against  localities.  The 
effect  where  this  is  done,  as  is  alleged  in  the  com- 
plaints that  are  made,  is  to  reduce  the  price  of  land. 
And  all  this  might  be  remedied,  without  raising 
wages  or  improving  the  condition  of  labor.  It 
would  only  make  land  more  valuable — that  is  to 
say,  in  consideration  of  the  saving  effected  in  trans- 
portation, labor  would  have  to  pay  a  higher  premium 
for  land. 


WHAT  WE   MUST   DO.  273 

So  with  all  monopolies,  and  their  name  is  legion. 
If  all  monopolies,  save  the  monopoly  of  land,  were 
abolished  ;  if,  even,  by  means  of  cooperative  socie- 
ties, or  other  devices,  the  profits  of  exchange  were 
saved,  and  goods  passed  from  producer  to  consumer 
at  the  minimum  of  cost ;  if  government  were  re- 
formed to  the  point  of  absolute  purity  and  economy, 
nothing  whatever  would  be  done  toward  equali- 
zation in  the  distribution  of  wealth.  The  competi- 
tion between  laborers,  who,  having  no  rights  in  the 
land,  cannot  work  without  some  one  else's  permis- 
sion, would  increase  the  value  of  land,  and  force 
wages  to  the  point  of  bare  subsistence. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  I  do  not  say  that 
in  the  recognition  of  the  equal  and  unalienable 
right  of  each  human  being  to  the  natural  elements 
from  which  life  must  be  supported  and  wants  satis- 
fied, lies  the  solution  of  all  social  problems.  I  fully 
recognize  the  fact  that  even  after  we  do  this,  much 
will  remain  to  do.  We  might  recognize  the  equal 
right  to  land,  and  yet  tyranny  and  spoliation  be 
continued.  But  whatever  else  we  do,  so  long  as  we 
fail  to  recognize  the  equal  right  to  the  elements  of 
nature,  nothing  will  avail  to  remedy  that  unnatural 
inequality  in  the  distribution  of  wealth  which  is 
fraught  with  so  much  evil  and  danger.  Keform  as  we 
may,  until  we  make  this  fundamental  reform  our 
material  progress  can  but  tend  to  differentiate  our 
18 


274:  SOCIAL    PKOBLEMS. 

people  into  tlie  monstrouslj  rich  and  the  frightfully 
poor.  Whatever  be  the  increase  of  wealth,  the 
masses  will  still  be  ground  toward  the  point  of  bare 
subsistence — we  must  still  have  our  great  criminal 
classes,  our  paupers  and  our  tramps,  men  and 
women  driven  to  degradation  and  desperation  from 
inability  to  make  an  honest  living. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    FIRST    GKEAT   REFORM. 

Do  what  we  may,  we  can  accomplish  nothing  real 
and'lasting  until  we  secure  to  all  the  first  of  those 
equal  and  unalienable  rights  with  which,  as  our 
Declaration  of  Independence  has  it,  man  is  endowed 
by  his  Creator  —  the  equal  and  unalienable  right  to 
the  use  and  benefit  of  natural  opportunities. 

There  are  people  who  are  always  trying  to  find 
some  mean  between  right  and  wrong  —  people 
who,  if  they  were  to  see  a  man  about  to  be  un- 
justly beheaded,  might  insist  that  the  proper  thing 
to  do  would  be  to  chop  off  his  feet.  These  are  the 
people  who,  beginning  to  recognize  the  importance 
of  the  land  question,  propose  in  Ireland  and  Eng- 
land such  measures  as  judicial  valuations  of  rents 
and  peasant  proprietary,  and  in  the  United  States, 
the  reservation  to  actual  settlers  of  what  is  left  of 
the  public  lands,  and  the  limitation  of  estates. 

Nothing  whatever  can  be  accomplished  by  such 
timid,  illogical  measures.  If  we  would  cure  social 
disease  we  must  go  to  the  root. 

There  is  no  use  in  talking  of  reserving  what 
there  may  be  left  of  our  public  domain  to  actual 
settlers.     That  would  be  merely  a  locking  of  the 

275 


276  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

stable  door  after  the  horse  had  been  stolen,  and 
even  if  it  were  not,  would  avail  nothing. 

There  is  no  use  in  talking  about  restricting  the 
amount  of  land  any  one  man  may  hold.  That,  even 
if  it  were  practicable,  were  idle,  and  would  not 
meet  the  difficulty.  The  ownership  of  an  acre  in  a 
city  may  give  more  command  of  the  labor  of  others 
than  the  ownership  of  a  hundred  thousand  acres  in 
a  sparsely  settled  district,  and  it  is  utterly  impossible 
by  any  legal  device  to  prevent  the  concentration  of 
property  so  long  as  the  general  causes  which  irre- 
sistibly tend  to  the  concentration  of  property  remain 
untouched.  So  long  as  the  wages  tend  to  the  point 
of  a  bare  living  for  the  laborer  we  cannot  stop  the 
tendency  of  property  of  all  kinds  to  concentration, 
and  this  must  be  the  tendency  of  wages  until  equal 
rights  in  the  soil  of  their  country  are  secured  to  all. 
We  can  no  more  abolish  industrial  slavery  by 
limiting  the  size  of  estates  than  we  could  abolish 
chattel  slavery  by  putting  a  limit  on  the  number  of 
slaves  a  single  slaveholder  might  own.  In  the  one 
case  as  in  the  other,  so  far  as  such  restrictions  could 
be  made  operative  they  would  only  increase  the 
difficulties  of  abolition  by  enlarging  the  class  who 
would  resist  it. 

There  is  no  escape  from  it.  If  we  would  save 
the  republic  before  social  inequality  and  political 
demoralization  have  reached  the  point  when  no 
salvation  is  possible,  we  must  assert  the  principle  of 


THE    FIEST   GREAT   REFOEM.  277 

the  Declaration  of  Independence,  acknowledge  the 
equal  and  unalienable  rights  which  inhere  in  man 
bj  endowment  of  the  Creator,  and  make  land  com- 
mon property. 

If  there  seems  anything  strange  in  the  idea  that 
all  men  have  equal  and  unalienable  rights  to  the  use 
of  the  earth,  it  is  merely  that  habit  can  blind  us  to 
the  most  obvious  truths.  Slavery,  polygamy,  canni- 
balism, the  flattening  of  children's  heads,  or  the 
squeezing  of  their  feet,  seem  perfectly  natural  to 
those  brought  up  where  such  institutions  or  customs 
exist.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  nothing  is  more 
repugnant  to  the  natural  perceptions  of  men  than 
that  land  should  be  treated  as  subject  to  individual 
ownership,  like  things  produced  by  labor.  It  is  only 
among  an  insignificant  fraction  of  the  people  who 
have  lived  on  the  earth  that  the  idea  that  the  earth 
itself  could  be  made  private  property  has  ever 
obtained  ;  nor  has  it  ever  obtained  save  as  the 
result  of  a  long  course  of  usurpation,  tyranny  and 
fraud.  This  idea  reached  development  among  the 
Komans,  whom  it  corrupted  and  destroyed.  It 
took  many  generations  for  it  to  make  its  way  among 
our  ancestors  ;  and  it  did  not,  in  fact,  reach  full  rec- 
ognition until  two  centuries  ago,  when,  in  the  time 
of  Charles  II,  the  feudal  dues  were  s.haken  off 
by  a  landholders'  parliament.  We  accepted  it  as 
we  have  accepted  the  aristocratic  organization  of 
our    army  and   navy,  and  many  other   things,    in 


278  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

which  we  have  servilely  followed  European  custom. 
Land  being  plenty  and  j)opulation  s|)arse,  we  did 
not  realize  what  it  would  mean  when  in  two  or 
three  cities  we  should  have  the  population  of  the 
thirteen  colonies.  But  it  is  time  that  we  should 
begin  to  think  of  it  now,  when  we  see  ourselves 
confronted,  in  spite  of  our  free  political  institutions, 
with  all  the  problems  that  menace  Europe  —  when, 
though  our  virgin  soil  is  not  quite  yet  fenced  in, 
we  have  a  '' working  class,"  a  "criminal  class" 
and  a  "pauper  class";  when  there  are  already 
thousands  of  so-called  free  citizens  of  the  republic 
who  cannot  by  the  hardest  toil  make  a  living  for 
their  families,  and  when  we  are,  on  the  other  hand, 
developing  such  monstrous  fortunes  as  the  world 
has  not  seen  since  great  estates  were  eating  out  the 
heart  of  Eome. 

What  more  preposterous  than  the  treatment  of 
land  as  individual  property.  In  every  essential 
land  differs  from  those  things  which  being  the  pro- 
duct of  human  labor  are  rightfully  property.  It  is 
the  creation  of  God  ;  they  are  produced  by  man.  It 
is  iixed  in  quantity  ;  they  may  be  increased  inimit- 
ably. It  exists,  though  generations  come  and  go ; 
they  in  a  little  while  decay  and  pass  again  into  the 
elements.  What  more  preposterous  than  that  one 
tenant  for  a  day  of  this  rolling  sphere  should  collect 
rent  for  it  from  his  co-tenants,  or  sell  to  them  for  a 
price  what  was  here  ages  before  him  and  will  be 


THE    FIE^T    GREAT    REFORM.  279 

here  ages  after  him  ?  What  more  preposterous  than 
that  we,  living  in  New  York  city  in  this  1883, 
should  be  working  for  a  lot  of  landlords  who  get 
the  authority  to  live  on  our  labor  from  some  English 
king  dead  and  gone  these  centuries  ?  What  more 
preposterous  than  that  we,  the  present  population  of 
the  United  States,  should  presume  to  grant  to  our 
own  people  or  to  foreign  capitalists  the  right  to  strip 
of  their  earnings  American  citizens  of  the  next 
generation  ?  What  more  utterly  preposterous  than 
these  titles  to  land  ?  Although  the  whole  people  of 
the  earth  in  one  generation  wore  to  unite,  they 
could  no  more  sell  title  to  land  against  the  next 
generation  than  they  could  sell  that  generation.  It 
if  a  self-evident  truth,  as  Thomas  Jefferson  said, 
that  the  earth  belongs  in  usufruct  to  the  living. 

Nor  can  any  defense  of  private  property  in  land 
be  made  on  the  ground  of  expediency.  On  the  con- 
trary;, look  where  you  will,  and  it  is  evident  that 
the  private  ownership  of  land  keeps  land  out  of 
use  ;  that  the  speculation  it  engenders  crowds  popu- 
lation where  it  ought  to  be  more  diffused,  diffuses  it 
where  it  ought  to  be  closer  together ;  compels  those 
who  wish  to  improve  to  pay  away  a  large  part  of 
their  capital,  or  mortgage  their  labor  for  years 
before  they  are  permitted  to  improve ;  prevents  men 
from  going  to  work  for  themselves  who  would  gladly 
do  so,  crowding  them  into  deadly  competition 
with  each  other  for  the  wages  of  employers  ;   and 


280  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

enormously  restricts  th3  production  of  wealth  while 
causing  the  grossest  inequality  in  its  distribution. 

No  assumption  can  be  more  gratuitous  than  that 
constantly  made  that  absolute  ownership  of  land  is 
necessary  to  the  improvement  and  proper  use  of 
land.  What  is  necessary  to  the  best  use  of  land  is 
the  security  of  improvements  —  the  assurance  that 
the  labor  and  capital  expended  upon  it  shall  enjoy 
their  reward.  This  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
absolute  ownership  of  land.  Some  of  the  finest 
buildings  in  New  York  are  erected  upon  leased 
ground.  Nearly  the  whole  of  London  and  other 
English  cities,  and  great  parts  of  Philadelphia  and 
Baltimore,  are  so  built.  All  sorts  of  mines  are 
opened  and  operated  on  leases.  In  California  and 
Nevada  the  most  costly  mining  operations,  involv- 
ing the  expenditure  of  immense  amounts  of  capital, 
were  undertaken  upon  no  better  security  than  the 
mining  regulations,  which  gave  no  ownership  of  the 
land,  but  only  guaranteed  possession  as  long  as  the 
mines  were  worked. 

If  shafts  can  be  sunk  and  tunnels  can  be  run,  and 
the  most  costly  machinery  can  be  put  up  on  public 
land  on  mere  security  of  possession,  why  could  not 
improvements  of  all  kinds  be  made  on  that  security  ? 
If  individuals  will  use  and  improve  land  belonging 
to  other  individuals,  why  would  they  not  use  and 
improve  land  belonging  to  the  whole  people  ?  What 
is  to  prevent  land  owned  by  Trinity  church,  by  the 


THE    FIRST    GREAT   REFORM.  281 

Sailors'  Snug  Harbor,  by  the  Astors  or  Rheinlanders, 
or  any  other  corporate  or  individual  owners,  from 
being  as  well  improved  and  used  as  now,  if  the 
ground  rents,  instead  of  going  to  corporations  or 
individuals,  went  into  the  public  treasury  ? 

In  point  of  fact,  if  land  were  treated  as  the  common 
property  of  the  whole  people,  it  would  be  far  more 
readily  improved  than  now,  for  then  the  improver 
would  get  the  whole  benefit  of  his  improvements. 
Under  the  present  system,  the  price  that  must  Be 
paid  for  land  operates  as  a  powerful  deterrent  to 
improvement.  And  when  the  improver  has  secured 
land  either  by  purchase  or  by  lease,  he  is  taxed 
upon  his  improvements,  and  heavily  taxed  in  various 
ways  upon  all  that  he  uses.  Were  land  treated  as 
the  propert}^  of  the  whole  people,  the  ground  rent 
accruing  to  the  community  would  suffice  for  public 
purposes,  and  all  other  taxation  miglit  be  dispensed 
with.  The  improver  could  more  easily  get  land  to 
improve,  and  would  retain  for  himself  the  full  bene- 
fit of  his  improvements  exempt  from  taxation. 

To  secure  to  all  citizens  their  equal  right  to  the 
land  on  which  they  live,  does  not  mean,  as  some  of 
the  ignorant  seem  to  suppose,  that  every  one  must 
be  given  a  farm,  and  city  land  be  cut  up  into  little 
pieces.  It  would  be  impossible  to  secure  the  equal 
rights  of  all  in  that  way,  even  if  such  division  were 
not  in  itself  impossible.  In  a  small  and  primitive 
community  of  simple  industries  and  habits,  such  as 


28^  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

that  Moses  legislated  for,  substantial  equality  may 
be  secured  by  alloting  to  each  family  an  equal  share 
of  the  land  and  making  it  inalienable.  Or,  as 
among  our  rude  ancestors  in  western  Europe,  or  in 
such  primitive  society  as  the  village  communities  of 
Russia  and  India,  substantial  equality  may  be  secured 
by  periodical  allotment  or  cultivation  in  common.  Or 
in  sparse  populations,  such  as  the  early  New  England 
colonies,  substantial  equality  may  be  secured  by 
giving  to  each  family  its  town  lot  and  its  seed  lot, 
holding  the  rest  of  the  land  as  townland  or  common. 
But  among  a  highly  civilized  and  rapidly  growing 
population,  with  changing  centers,  with  great 
cities  and  minute  division  of  industry,  and  a  com- 
plex system  of  production  and  exchange,  such  rude 
devices  become  ineffective  and  impossible. 

Must  we  therefore  consent  to* inequality — must 
we  therefore  consent  that  some  shall  monopolize 
what  is  the  common  heritage  of  all  ?  Not  at  all.  If 
two  men  find  a  diamond,  they  do  not  march  to  a 
lapidary  to  have  it  cut  in  two.  If  three  sons  inherit 
a  ship,  they  do  not  proceed  to  saw  her  into  three 
pieces  ;  nor  yet  do  they  agree  that  if  this  cannot  be 
done  equal  division  is  impossible  ?  Nor  yet  is  there 
no  otherway  to  secure  the  rights  of  the  owners  of  a 
railroad  than  by  breaking  up  track,  engines,  cars 
and  depots  into  as  many  separate  bits  as  there  are 
stockholders?  And  so  it  is  not  necessary,  in  order 
to  secure  equal  rights  to  land,  to  make  an  equal 


THE   FIRST    GREAT   REFORM.  ^83 

division  of  land.  All  that  it  is  necessary  to  do  is  to 
collect  the  ground  rents  for  the  common  benefit. 

Kor,  to  take  ground  rents  for  the  common  benefit, 
is  it  necessary  that  the  State  should  actualljtake 
possession  of  the  land  and  rent  it  out  from  year  to 
year,  or  from  term  to  term,  as  some  ignorant  people 
suppose.  It  can  be  done  in  a  much  more  simple 
and  easy  manner  by  means  of  the  existing  machinery 
of  taxation.  All  it  is  necessary  to  do  is  to  abolish 
all  other  forms  of  taxation  until  the  weight  of  taxa- 
tion rests  upon  the  value  of  land  irrespective  of 
improvements,  and  takes  the  ground  rent  for  the 
public  benefit. 

In  this  simple  way,  without  increasing  govern- 
mental machinery,  but,  on  the  contrary,  greatly 
simplifying  it,  we  could  make  land  common  property. 
And  in  doing  this  we  could  abolish  all  other  taxa- 
tion, and  still  have  a  great  and  steadily  increasing 
surplus — a  growing  common  fund,  in  the  benefits 
of  which  all  might  share,  and  in  the  management 
of  which  there  would  be  such  a  direct  and  general 
interest  as  to  afford  the  strongest  guarantees  against 
misappropriation  or  waste.  Under  this  system  no 
one  could  afford  to  hold  land  he  was  not  using,  and 
land  not  in  use  would  be  thrown  open  to  those  who 
wished  to  use  it,  at  once  relieving  the  labor  market 
and  giving  an  enormous  stimulus  to  production  and 
improvement,  while  land  in  use  would  be  paid  for 
according  to  its  value,  irrespective  of  the  improve- 


284  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

ments  the  user  might  make.  On  these  he  would 
not  be  taxed.  All  that  his  labor  could  add  to  the 
common  wealth,  all  that  his  prudence  could  save, 
would  be  his  own,  instead  of,  as  now,  subjecting 
him  to  fine.  Thus  would  the  sacred  right  of 
property  be  acknowledged  bj  securing  to  each  the 
reward  of  his  exertion. 

Practically,  then,  the  greatest,  the  most  funda- 
mental of  all  reforms,  the  reform  which  will  make 
all  otlier  reforms  easier,  and  without  which  no  other 
reform  will  avail,  is  to  be  reached  by  concentrating 
all  taxation  into  a  tax  upon  the  value  of  land,  and 
making  that  heavy  enough  to  take  as  near  as  may 
be  the  whole  ground  rent  for  common  purposes. 

To  those  who  have  never  studied  the  subject,  it 
will  seem  ridiculous  to  propose  as  the  greatest  and 
most  far-reaching  of  all  reforms  a  mere  fiscal  change. 
But  whoever  has  followed  the  train  of  thought 
through  which  in  preceding  chapters  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  lead,  will  see  that  in  this  simple  proposition 
is  involved  the  greatest  of  social  revolutions  —  a 
revolution  compared  with  which  that  which  de- 
stroyed ancient  monarcliy  in  France  or  that  which 
destroyed  chattel  slavery  in  our  southern  states, 
were  as- nothing. 

In  a  book  such  as  this,  intended  for  the  casual 
reader,  who  lacks  inclination  to  follow  the  close  rea- 
soning necessary  to  show  the  full  relation  of  this 
seemingly  simple  reform  to  economic  laws,  I  cannot 


THE    FIRST   GREAT   REFORM.  285 

exhibit  its  full  force,  but  I  may  point  to  some  of  the 
more  obvious  of  its  effects. 

To  appropriate  ground  rent*  to  public  uses  by 
means  of  taxation  would  permit  the  abolition  of  all 
the  taxation  which  now  presses  so  heavily  upon  labor 
and  capital.  This  would  enormously  increase  the 
production  of  wealth  by  the  removal  of  restrictions 
and  by  adding  to  the  incentives  to  production. 

It  would  at  the  same  time  enormously  increase 
the  production  of  wealth  by  throwing  open  natural 
opportunities.  It  would  utterly  destroy  land  mo- 
nopoly by  making  the  holding  of  land  unprofitable 
to  any  but  the  user.  There  would  be  no  temptation 
to  any  one  to  hold  land  in  expectation  of  future 
increase  in  its  value  when  that  increase  was  certain 
to  be  demanded  in  taxes.  'No  one  could  afford  to 
hold  valuable  land  idle  when  the  taxes  upon  it  would 
be  as  heavy  as  they  would  be  were  it  put  to  the 
fullest  use.  Thus  speculation  in  land  would  be 
utterly  destroyed,  and  land  not  in  use  would  become 
free  to  those  who  wished  to  use  it. 

The  enormous  increase  in  production  which  would 
result  from  thus  throwing  open  the  natural  means 
and  opportunities  of  production,  while  at  the  same 
time  removing  the  taxation  which  now  hampers, 
restricts  and   fines  production,  would  enormously 


*I  use  the  term  ground  rent  because  the  proper  economic  terra,  rent, 
might  not  be  understood  by  those  who  are  in  the  habit  of  using  it  in  its 
common  sense,  which  applies  to  the  income  from  buildings  and  improve- 
ments, as  well  as  land. 


286  SOCIAL   PEOBLEMS. 

augment  the  annual  fund  from  which  all  incomes  are 
drawn.  It  would  at  the  same  time  make  the  distri- 
bution of  wealth  much  more  equal.  That  great  part 
of  this  fund  which  is  now  taken  by  the  owners  of 
land,  not  as  a  return  for  any  tiling  by  which  they  add 
to  production,  but  because  they  have  appropriated 
as  their  own  the  natural  means  and  opportunities  of 
production,  and  which  as  material  progress  goes  on, 
and  the  value  of  land  rises,  is  constantly  becoming 
larger  and  larger,  would  be  virtually  divided  among 
all,  by  being  utilized  for  common  purposes.  The 
removal  of  restrictions  upon  labor  and  the  opening 
of  natural  opportunities  to  labor,  would  make  labor 
free  to  employ  itself  Labor,  the  producer  of  all 
wealth,  could  never  become  "a  drug  in  the  market " 
while  desire  for  any  form  of  wealth  was  unsatisfied. 
With  the  natural  opportunities  of  employment 
thrown  open  to  all,  the  spectacle  of  willing  men 
seeking  vainly  for  employment  could  not  be  wit- 
nessed ;  there  could  be  no  surplus  of  unemployed 
labor  to  beget  that  cut-throat  competition  of  laborers 
for  employment  which  crowds  wages  down  to  the  cost 
of  merely  living.  Instead  of  the  one-sided  compe- 
tition of  workmen  to  find  employment,  employers 
would  compete  with  each  other  to  obtain  workmen. 
There  would  be  no  need  of  combinations  to  raise  or 
maintain  wages  ;  for  wages,  instead  of  tending  to  the 
lowest  point  at  which  laborers  can  live,  would  tend 
to  the  highest  point  which  employers  could  pay, 


THE    FIRST    GREAT   REFORM.  287 

and  thus,  instead  of  getting  but  a  mere  fraction  of 
his  earnings,  the  workman  would  get  the  full  return 
of  his  labor,  leaving  to  the  skill,  foresight  and  capi- 
tal of  the  employer  those  additional  earnings  that  are 
justly  their  due. 

The  equalization  in  the  distribution  of  wealth 
that  would  thus  result  would  effect  immense  econo- 
mies and  greatly  add  to  productive  power.  The 
cost  of  the  idleness,  pauperism  and  crime  that 
spring  from  poverty  would  be  saved  to  the  com- 
munity ;  the  increased  mobility  of  labor,  the  in- 
creased intelligence  of  the  masses,  that  would  result 
from  this  equalized  distribution  of  wealth,  the  greater 
incentive  to  invention  and  to  the  use  of  improved  pro- 
cesses that  would  result  from  the  increase  in  wages, 
would  enormously  increase  production. 

To  abolish  all  taxes  save  a  tax  upon  the  value  of 
land  would  at  the  same  time  greatly  simplify  the 
machinery  and  expenses  of  government,  and  greatly 
reduce  government  expenses.  An  army  of  custom- 
house officers,  and  internal  revenue  officials,  and 
license  collectors  and  assessors,  clerks,  accountants, 
spies,  detectives,  and  government  employes  of 
every  description,  could  be  dispensed  with.  The 
corrupting  effect  of  indirect  taxation  would  be  taken 
out  of  our  politics.  The  rings  and  combinations 
now  interested  in  keeping  up  taxation  would  cease 
to  contribute  money  for  the  debauching  of  voters 
and  to  beset    the    law-making  power  with  their 


288  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

lobbyists.  We  sliould  get  rid  of  the  fraud  and  false 
swearing,  of  the  bribery  and  subornation  which 
now  attend  the  collection  of  so  much  of  our  public 
revenues.  We  should  get  rid  of  the  demoralization 
that  proceeds  from  laws  which  prohibit  actions  in 
themselves  harmless,  punish  men  for  crimes  which 
the  moral  sense  does  not  condemn,  and  offer  a  con- 
stant premium  to  evasion.  "Land  lies  out  of 
doors."  It  cannot  be  hid  or  carried  off.  Its  value 
can  be  ascertained  with  greater  ease  and  exactness 
than  the  value  of  anything  else,  and  taxes  upon 
that  value  can  be  collected  with  absolute  certainty 
and  at  the  minimum  of  expense.  To  rely  upon 
land  values  for  the  whole  public  revenue  would  so 
simplify  government,  would  so  eliminate  incentives 
to  corruption,  that  we  could  safely  assume  as  govern- 
mental functions  the  management  of  telegraphs  and 
railroads,  and  safely  apply  thQ  increasing  surplus  to 
securing  such  common  benefits  and  providing  such 
public  conveniences  as  advancing  civilization  may 
call  for. 

And  in  thinking  of  what  is  possible  in  the  way 
of  the  management  of  common  concerns  for  the 
common  benefit,  not  only  is  the  great  simplifica- 
tion of  government  which  would  result  from  the 
reform  I  have  suggested  to  be  considered,  but  the 
higher  moral  tone  that  would  be  given  to  social  life 
by  the  equalization  of  conditions  and  the  abolition 
of  poverty.     The  greed  of  wealth,  which  makes  it  a 


THE    FIRST    GREAT    REFORM.  289 

business  motto  that  every  man  is  to  be  treated  as 
tliough  lie  were  a  rascal,  and  induces  despair  of 
getting  in  places  of  public  trust  men  who  will  not 
abuse  them  for  selfish  ends,  is  but  the  reflection  of 
the  fear  of  want.  Men  trample  over  each  other 
from  the  frantic  dread  of  being  trampled  upon,  and 
the  admiration  with  which  even  the  unscrupulous 
money-getter  is  regarded  springs  from  habits  of 
thought  engendered  by  the  fierce  struggle  for  exist- 
ence to  which  the  most  of  us  are  obliged  to  give  up 
our  best  energies.  But  when  no  one  feared  want, 
when  every  one  felt  assured  of  his  ability  to  make 
an  easy  and  independent  living  for  himself  and  his 
family,  that  popular  admiration  which  now  spurs 
even  the  rich  man  still  to  add  to  his  wealth  would 
be  given  to  other  things  than  the  getting  of  money. 
We  should  learn  to  regard  the  man  who  strove  to 
get  more  than  he  could  use,  as  a  fool — as  indeed 
he  is. 

He  must  have  eyes  only  for  the  mean  and  vile, 
who  has  mixed  with  men  without  realizing  that 
selfishness  and  greed  and  vice  and  crime  are  largely 
the  result  of  social  conditions  which  bring  out  the 
bad  qualities  of  human  nature  and  stunt  the  good  ; 
without  realizing  that  there  is  even  now  among  men 
patriotism  and  virtue  enough  to  secure  us  the  best 
possible  management  of  public  affairs  if  our  social 
and  political  adjustments  enabled  us  to  utilize  those 
qualities.     Who  has  not  known  poor  men  who  might 


290  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

safely  be  trusted  with  untold  millions  ?  Who  has 
not  met  with  rich  men  who  retained  the  most  ardent 
sympathy  with  their  fellows,  the  warmest  devotion 
to  all  that  would  benefit  their  kind?  Look  to-day  at 
our  charities,  hopeless  of  permanent  good  though 
they  may  be  !  They  at  least  show  the  existence  ot 
unselfish  sympathies,  capable,  if  rightly  directed,  of 
the  largest  results. 

It  is  no  mere  fiscal  reform  that  I  propose  ;  it  is  a 
conforming  of  the  most  important  social  adjust- 
ments to  natural  laws.  To  those  who  have  never 
given  thought  to  the  matter,  it  may  seem  irreve- 
rently presumptuc)us  to  say  that  it  is  the  evident 
intent  of  the  Creator  that  land  values  should  be  the 
subject  of  taxation  ;  that  rent  should  be  utilized  for 
the  benefit  of  the  entire  community.  Yet  to 
whoever  does  think  of  it,  to  say  this  will  appear  no 
more  presumptuous  than  to  say  that  the  Creator  has 
intended  men  to  walk  on  their  feet,  and  not  on  their 
hands.  Man,  in  his  social  relations,  is  as  much 
included  in  the  creative  scheme  as  man  in  his 
physical  relations.  Just  as  certainly  as  the  fish  was 
intended  to  swim  in  the  wa'ter,  and  the  bird  to  fly 
through  the  air,  and  monkeys  to  live  in  trees,  and 
moles  to  burrow  underground,  was  man  intended  to 
live  with  his  fellows.  He  is  by  nature  a  social 
animal.  And  the  creative  scheme  must  embrace 
the  life  and  development  of  society,  as  truly  as  it 
embraces  the  life  and  development  of  the  individual. 


THE  IIRST  GREAT  REFORM.  291 

Our  civilization  cannot  carry  us  beyond  the  domain 
of  law.  Railroads,  telegraphs  and  labor-saving 
machinery  are  no  more  accidents  than  are  flowers 
and  trees. 

Man  is  driven  by  his  instincts  and  needs  to  form 
society.  Society,  thus  formed,  has  certain  needs 
and  functions  for  which  revenue  is  required. 
These  needs  and  functions  increase  with  social 
development,  requiring  a  larger  and  larger  revenue. 
Now,  experience  and  analogy,  if  not  the  instinctive 
perceptions  of  the  human  mind,  teach  us  that  there 
is  a  natural  way  of  satisfying  every  natural  want. 
And  if  human  society  is  included  in  nature,  as  it 
surely  is,  this  must  apply  to  social  wants  as  well  as 
to  the  wants  of  the  individual,  and  there  must  be  a 
natural  or  right  method  of  taxation,  as  there  is  a 
natural  or  right  method  of  walking. 

We  know,  beyond  peradventure,  that  the  natural 
or  right  way  for  a  man  to  walk  is  on  his  feet, 
and  not  on  his  hands.  We  know  this  of  a  surety  — 
because  the  feet  are  adapted  to  walking,  while 
the  hands  are  not ;  because  in  walking  on  the 
feet  all  the  other  organs  of  the  body  are  free  to  per- 
form their  proper  functions,  while  in  walking  on 
the  hands  they  are  not ;  because  a  man  can  walk 
on  his  feet  with  ease,  convenience  and  celerity, 
while  no  amount  of  training  will  enable  him  to  walk 
on  his  hands  save  awkwardly,  slowly  and  painfully. 
In  the  same  way  we  may  know  that  the  natural  or 


292  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

right  way  of  raising  the  revenues  which  are  required 
by  tlie  needs  of  society  is  by  the  taxation  of  land 
vahies.  Tlie  vahie  of  land  is  in  its  nature  and  rela- 
tions adapted  to  purposes  of  taxation,  just  as  the  feet 
in  their  nature  and  relations  are  adapted  to  the  pur- 
poses of  walking.  The  value  of  land*  only  arises 
as  in  the  integration  of  society  the  need  for  some 
public  or  common  revenue  begins  to  be  felt.  It 
increases  as  the  development  of  society  goes  on, 
and  as  larger  and  larger  revenues  are  therefore 
required.  Taxation  upon  land  values  does  not 
lessen  the  individual  incentive  to  production  and 
accumulation,  as  do  other  methods  of  taxation  ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  leaves  perfect  freedom  to  productive 
forces,  and  prevents  restrictions  upon  production 
from  arising.  It  does  not  foster  monopolies,  and 
cause  unjust  inequalities  in  the  distribution  of 
wealth,  as  do  other  taxes  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  has 
the  effect  of  breaking  down  monopoly  and  equaliz- 
ing the  distribution  of  wealth.  It  can  be  collected 
with  greater  certainty  and  economy  than  any  other 
tax ;  it  does  not  beget  the  evasion,  corruption  and 
dishonesty  that  flow  from  other  taxes.  In  short,  it 
conforms  to  every  economic  and  moral  require- 
ment. What  can  be  more  in  accordance  with  justice 
than  that  the  value  of  land,  which  is  not  created  by 


*  Value,  it  must  always  be  remembered,  is  a  totally  different  thing  from 
utility.  From  the  confounding  of  these  two  different  ideas  much  error 
and  confusion  arise.  No  matter  how  useful  it  may  be,  nothing  has  a 
value  until  some  one  is  willing  to  give  labor  or  the  produce  of  labor 
for  it. 


THE    FIRST    GREAT   REFORM.  293 

individual  effort,  but  arises  from  the  existence  and 
growth  of  society,  should  be  taken  by  society  for 
social  needs  ? 

In  trying,  in  a  previous  chapter,  to  imagine  a 
world  in  which  natural  material  and  opportunities 
were  free  as  air,  I  said  that  such  a  world  as  we  find 
ourselves  in  is  best  for  men  who  will  use  the  intelli- 
gence with  w^hich  man  has  been  gifted.  So,  evi- 
dently, it  is.  The  very  laws  which  cause  social 
injustice  to  result  in  inequality,  suffering  and  degra- 
dation are  in  their  nature  beneficent.  All  this  evil 
is  the  wrong  side  of  good  that  might  be. 

Man  is  more  than  an  animal.  And  the  more  we 
consider  the  constitution  of  this  world  in  which  we 
find  ourselves,  the  more  clearly  we  see  that  its  con- 
stitution is  such  as  to  develop  more  than  animal 
life.  If  the  purpose  for  which  this  world  existed 
were  merely  to  enable  animal  man  to  eat,  drink  and 
comfortably  clothe  and  house  himself  for  his  little 
day,  some  such  world  as  I  have  previously  endea- 
vored to  imagine  would  be  best.  But  the  purpose 
of  this  world,  so  far  at  least  as  man  is  concerned, 
is  evidently  the  development  of  moral  and  intellec- 
tual, even  more  than  of  animal,  powers.  Whether 
we  consider  man  himself  or  his  relations  to  nature 
external  to  him,  the  substantial  truth  of  that  bold 
declaration  of  the  Hebrew  scriptures,  that  man  has 
been  created  in  the  image  of  God,  forces  itself  upon 
the  mind. 


294  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

If  all  tlie  material  things  needed  by  man  could 
be  produced  equally  well  at  all  points  on  the  earth's 
surface,  it  might  seem  more  convenient  for  man  the 
animal,  but  how  would  he  have  risen  above  the 
animal  level  ?  As  we  see  in  the  history  of  social 
development,  commerce  has  been  and  is  the  great 
civilizer  and  educator.  The  seemingly  infinite  di- 
versities in  the  capacity  of  different  parts  of  the 
earth's  surface  lead  to  that  exchange  of  productions 
which  is  tlie  most  powerful  agent  in  preventing 
isolation,  in  breaking  down  prejudice,  in  increasing 
knowledge  and  widening  thought.  These  diversi- 
ties of  nature,  which  seemingly  increase  with  our 
knowledge  of  nature's  powers,  like  the  diversities  in 
the  aptitudes  of  individuals  and  communities,  which 
similarly  increase  with  social  development,  call 
forth  powers  and  give  rise  to  pleasures  which  could 
never  arise  had  man  been  placed,  like  an  ox,  in  a 
boundless  field  of  clover.  The  ''international  law 
of  God  "  which  we  fight  with  our  tarifis,  — so  short- 
sighted are  the  selfish  prejudices  of  men — is  the 
law  which  stimulates  mental  and  moral  progress  ; 
the  law  to  which  civilization  is  due. 

And  so,  wlien  we  consider  the  phenomena  of  rent, 
it  reveals  to  us  one  of  those  beautiful  and  beneficent 
adaptations,  in  which  more  than  in  anything  else 
the  human  mind  recognizes  evidences  of  Mind  in- 
finitely greater,  and  catches  glimpses  of  the  Master 
Workman. 


THE    FIRST    GREAT    REFORM.  295 

This  is  the  law  of  rent :  As  individuals  come  to- 
gether in  communities,  and  society  grows,  integrat- 
ing more  and  more  its  individual  members,  and 
making  general  interests  and  general  conditions  of 
more  and  more  relative  importance,  there  arises, 
over  and  above  the  value  which  individuals  can 
create  for  themselves,  a  value  which  is  created  by 
the  community  as  a  whole,  and  which,  attaching  to 
land,  becomes  tangible,  definite  and  capable  of  com- 
putation and  appropriation.  As  society  grows,  so 
grows  this  value,  which  springs  from  and  represents 
in  tangible  form  what  society  as  a  whole  contributes 
to  production  as  distinguished  from  what  is  con- 
tributed by  individual  exertion.  By  virtue  of  nat- 
ural law  in  those  aspects  which  it  is  the  purpose  of 
the  science  we  call  political  economy  to  discover,  as 
it  is  the  purpose  of  the  sciences  which  we  call 
chemistry  and  astronomy  to  discover  other  aspects 
of  natural  law, — all  social  advance  necessarily  con- 
tributes to  the  increase  of  this  common  value  ;  to  the 
growth  of  this  common  fund. 

Here  is  a  provision  made  by  natural  law  for  the 
increasing  needs  of  social  growth  ;  here  is  an  adapta- 
tion of  nature  by  virtue  of  which  the  natural  progress 
of  society  is  a  progress  toward  equality,  not  toward 
inequality  ;  a  centripetal  force  tending  to  unity, 
growing  out  of  and  ever  balancing  a  centrifugal 
force  tending  to  diversity.  Here  is  a  fund  belong- 
ing to  society  as  a  whole  from  which,  without  the 


296  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

degradation  ]^of  alms,  private  or  public,  provision 
can  be  made  for  the  weak,  the  helpless,  the  aged  ; 
from  which  provision  can  be  made  for  the  common 
wants  of  all  as  a  matter  of  common  right  to  each, 
and  by  the  utilization  of  which  society,  as  it 
advances,  may  pass,  by  natural  methods  and  easy 
stages  from  a  rude  association  for  purposes  of 
defense  and  police,  into  a  cooperative  association, 
in  which  combined  power  guided  by  combined  intel- 
ligence can  give  to  each  more  than  his  own  ex- 
ertions multiplied  many  fold  could  produce. 

By  making  land  private  property,  by  permitting 
individuals  to  appropriate  this  fund  which  nature 
plainly  intended  for  the  use  of  all,  we  throw  the 
children's  bread  to  the  dogs  of  Greed  and  Lust ;  we 
produce  a  primary  inequality  which  gives  rise  iii 
every  direction  to  other  tendencies  to  inequality  ; 
and  from  this  perversion  of  the  good  gifts  of  the 
Creator,  from  this  ignoring  and  defjdng  of  his  social 
laws,  there  arise  in  the  very  heart  of  our  civilization 
those  horrible  and  monstrous  things  that  betoken 
social  putrefaction. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   AMERICAN   FARMER. 

It  is  frequently  asserted  that  no  proposition  for 
the  recognition  of  common  rights  to  land  can 
become  a  practical  question  in  the  United  States 
because  of  the  opposition  of  the  farmers  who  own 
their  own  farms,  and  who  constitute  the  great  body 
of  our  population,  wielding  when  they  choose  to 
exert  it  a  dominating  political  power. 

That  new  ideas  make  their  way  more  slowly 
among  an  agricultural  population  than  among  the 
population  of  cities  and  towns  is  true  —  though,  I 
think,  in  less  degree  true  of  the  United  States  than 
of  any  other  country.  But  beyond  this,  it  seems  to 
me  that  those  who  look  upon  the  small  farmers  of 
the  United  States  as  forming  an  impregnable  bul- 
wark to  private  property  in  land  very  much  miscal- 
culate. 

Even  admitting,  which  I  do  not,  that  farmers 
could  be  relied  upon  to  oppose  measures  fraught 
with  great  general  benefits  if  seemingly  opposed  to 
their  smaller  personal  interests,  it  is  not  true  that 
such  measures  as  I  have  suggested  are  opposed  to 
the  interests  of  the  great  body  of  farmers.  On 
the  contrary,  these  measures  would  be  as  clearly  to 

297 


298  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

their  advantage  as  to  tlie  advantage  of  wageworkers. 
The  average  farmer  may  at  iirst  start  at  the  idea  of 
virtually  making  land  common  property,  but  given 
time  for  discussion  and  reflection,  and  those  who 
are  already  trying  to  persuade  him  that  to  put  all 
taxation  upon  the  value  of  land  would  be  to  put  all 
taxation  upon  him,  have  as  little  chance  of  success 
as  the  slaveholders  had  of  persuading  their  negroes 
that  the  Northern  armies  were  bent  on  kidnapping 
and  selling  them  in  Cuba.  The  average  farmer  can 
read,  write  and  cypher — and  on  matters  connected 
with  his  own  interests  cyphers  pretty  closely.  He 
is  not  out  of  the  great  currents  of  thought,  though 
they  may  affect  him  more  slowly,  and  he  is  any- 
thing but  a  contented  peasant,  ignoraAtly  satisfied 
with  things  as  they  are,  and  impervious  to  ideas  of 
change.  Already  dissatisfied,  he  is  becoming  more 
so.  His  hard  and  barren  life  seems  harder 
and  more  barren  as  contrasted  with  the  excitement 
and  luxury  of  cities,  of  which  he  constantly  reads 
even  if  he  does  not  frequently  see,  and  the  great 
fortunes  accumulated  by  men  who  do  nothing  to  add 
to  the  stock  of  wealth  arouse  his  sense  of  injustice. 
He  is  at  least  beginning  to  feel  that  he  bears 
more  than  his  fair  share  of  the  burdens  of  society, 
and  gets  less  than  his  fair  share  of  its  benefits  ;  and 
though  the  time  for  his  awakening  has  not  yet 
come,    his    thought,    with  the   decadence    of   old 


THE    AMERICAN   FARMER.  299 

political  issues,  is  more  and  more  turning  to  eco- 
nomic and  social  questions. 

It  is  clear  that  the  change  in  taxation  which  I 
propose  as  the  means  whereby  equal  rights  to  the 
soil  may  be  asserted  and  maintained,  would  be  to 
the  advantage  of  farmers  who  are  working  land  be- 
longing to  others,  of  those  whose  farms  are  virtually 
owned  by  mortgagees,  and  of  those  who  are  seeking 
farms.  And  not  only  do  the  farmers  whose  opposi- 
tion is  relied  upon — those  who  own  their  own 
farms — form,  as  I  shall  hereafter  show,  but  a 
decreasing  minority  of  the  agricultural  vote,  and  a 
small  and  even  more  rapidly  decreasing  minority  of 
the  aggregate  vote  ;  but  the  change  would  be  so 
manifestly  to  the  advantage  of  the  smaller  farmers 
who  constitute  the  great  body,  that  when  they 
come  to  understand  it  they  will  favor  instead  of 
opposing  it.  The  farmer  who  cultivates  his  own 
small  farm  with  his  own  hands  is  a  landowner,  it  is 
true,  but  he  is  in  greater  degree  a  laborer,  and  in 
his  ownership  of  stock,  improvements,  tools,  etc.,  a 
capitalist.  It  is  from  his  labor,  aided  by  this 
capital,  rather  than  from  any  advantage  represented 
by  the  value  of  his  land,  that  he  derives  his  living. 
His  main  interest  is  that  of  a  producer,  not  that 
of  a  landowner. 

There  lived  in  Dublin,  some  years  ago,  a  gentle- 
man named  Murphy — "Cozy"  Murphy,  they 
called  him,  for  short,  and  because  he  was  a  very 


300  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

comfortable  sort  of  a  Murpli}^  Cozy  Murplij 
owned  land  in  Tipperarj  ;  but  as  he  had  an  agent 
in  Tipperary  to  collect  his  rents  and  evict  his  ten- 
ants when  they  did  not  pay,  he  himself  lived  in 
Dublin,  as  being  the  more  comfortable  place.  And 
he  concluded,  at  length,  that  the  most  comfortable 
place  in  Dublin,  in  fact  the  most  comfortable  place 
in  the  whole  world,  was — in  bed.  So  he  w^ent  to 
bed  and  stayed  there  for  nearly  eight  years  ;  not 
because  he  was  at  all  ill,  but  because  he  liked  it. 
He  ate  his  dinners,  and  drank  his  wine,  and  smoked 
his  cigars,  and  read,  and  played  cards,  and  received 
visitors,  and  verified  his  agent's  accounts,  and  drew 
checks  —  all  in  bed.  After  eight  years'  lying  in  bed, 
he  grew  tired  of  it,  got  up,  dressed  himself,  and  for 
some  years  went  around  like  other  people,  and  then 
died.  But  his  family  were  just  as  well  off  as  though 
he  had  never  gone  to  bed  —  in  fact,  they  were  better 
off;  for  while  his  income  was  not  a  whit  dimin- 
ished by  his  going  to  bed,  his  expenses  were. 

This  was  a  typical  landowner — a  landowner 
pure  and  simple.  Now  let  the  working  farmer 
consider  what  would  become  of  himself  and  family 
if  he  and  his  boys  were  to  go  to  bed  and  stay  there, 
and  he-  will  realize  how  much  his  interests  as  a 
laborer  exceed  his  interests  as  a  landowner. 

It  requires  no  grasp  of  abstractions  for  the  work- 
ing farmer  to  see  that  to  abolish  all  taxation,  save 
upon  the  value  of  land,    would  be  really    to    his 


THE   AMERICAN   FARMER.  301 

interest,  no  matter  liow  it  miglit  affect  larger  land- 
holders. Let  the  working  farmer  consider  how  the 
weight  of  indirect  taxation  falls  upon  him  without  his 
having  power  to  shift  it  off  upon  any  one  else  ;  how 
it  adds  to  the  price  of  neai-lj  everything  he  has  to 
buy,  without  adding  to  the  price  of  what  he  has 
to  sell ;  how  it  compels  him  to  contribute  to  the 
support  of  government  in  far  greater  proportion  to 
what  he  possesses  than  it  does  those  who  are  much 
richer,  and  he  will  see  that  by  the  substitution  of 
direct  for  indirect  taxation,  he  would  be  largely  the 
gainer.  Let  him  consider  further,  and  he  will  see 
that  he  would  be  still  more  largely  the  gainer  if  di- 
rect taxation  were  confined  to  the  value  of  land. 
The  land  of  the  working  farmer  is  improved  land, 
and  usually  the  value  of  the  improvements  and  of 
the  stock  used  in  cultivating  it  bear  a  very  high 
proportion  to  the  value  of  the  bare  land.  Now,  as 
all  valuable  land  is  not  improved  as  is  that  of  the 
working  farmer,  as  there  is  much  more  of  valuable 
land  than  of  improved  land,  to  substitute  for  the 
taxation  now  levied  upon  improvements  and  stock, 
a  tax  upon  the  naked  value  of  land,  irrespective  of 
improvements,  would  be  manifestly  to  the  advantage 
of  the  owners  of  improved  land,  and  especially 
of  small  owners,  the  value  of  whose  improvements 
bears  a  much  greater  ratio  to  the  value  of  their  land 
than  is  tlie  case  with  larger  owners ;  and  who,  as 
one  of  the  effects  of  treating  improvements  as  a 


302  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

proper  subject  of  taxation,  are  taxed  far  more 
heavily,  even  upon  the  value  of  their  land,  than 
are  larger  owners. 

The  working  farmer  has  only  to  look  about  him 
to  realize  this.  Near  by  his  farm  of  eighty  or  one 
hundred  and  sixty  acres  he  will  find  tracts  of  five 
hundred  or  a  thojisand,  or,  in  some  places,  tens  of 
thousands  of  acres,  of  equally  valuable  land,  on 
which  the  improvements,  stock,  tools  and  house- 
hold effects  are  much  less  in  proportion  than  on  hi^ 
own  small  farm,  or  which  may  be  totally  unim- 
proved and  unused.  In  the  villages  he  will  find 
acre,  half-acre  and  quarter-acre  lots,  unimproved  or 
slightly  improved,  which  are  more  valuable  than 
his  whole  farm.  If  he  looks  further,  he  will  see 
tracts  of  mineral  land,  or  land  with  other  superior 
natural  advantages,  having  immense  value,  yet  on 
which  the  taxable  improvements  amount  to  little  or 
nothing ;  while,  when  he  looks  to  the  great  cities, 
he  will  find  vacant  lots,  twenty-five  by  one  hundred 
feet,  worth  more  than  a  whole  section  of  agricul- 
tural land  such  as  his  ;  and  as  he  goes  toward  their 
centers  he  will  find  most  magnificent  buildings  less 
valuable  than  the  ground  on  which  they  stand,  and 
block  after  block  where  the  land  would  sell  for 
more  per  front  foot  than  his  whole  farm.  Mani- 
festly to  put  all  taxes  on  the  value  of  land  would  be 
to  lessen  relatively  and  absolutely  the  taxes  the 
working  farmer  has  to  pay. 


THE    A^LERICAN    FARMER.  303 

So  fill"  from  the  effect  of  placing  all  taxes  upon 
tlie  value  of  land  being  to  the  advantage  of  the 
towns  at  tlie  expense  of  the  agricultural  districts, 
the  very  reverse  of  this  is  obviously  true.  The 
great  increase  of  land  values  is  in  the  cities,  and 
with  tlie  present  tendencies  of  growth  this  must 
continue  to  be  the  case.  To  place  all  taxes  on 
the  value  of  land  would  be  to  reduce  the  taxa- 
tion of  agricultural  districts  relatively  to  the  taxa- 
tion of  towns  and  cities.  And  this  would  be 
only  just ;  for  it  is  not  alone  the  presence  of  their 
own  populations  which  gives  value  to  the  land  of 
towns  and  cities,  but  the  presence  of  the  more 
scattered  agricultural  population,  for  whom  they 
constitute  industrial,  commercial  and  financial 
centers. 

While  at  first  blush  it  may  seem  to  the  farmer 
that  to  abolish  all  taxes  upon  other  things  than  the 
value  of  land  would  be  to  exempt  the  richer  inhabi- 
tants of  cities  from  taxation,  and  unduly  to  tax  him, 
discussion  and  reflection  will  certainly  show  him 
that  the  reverse  is  the  case.  Personal  property  is 
not,  never  has  been,  and  never  can  be,  fairly  taxed. 
The  rich  man  always  escapes  more  easily  than  the 
man  who  has  but  little ;  the  city,  more  easily  than 
the  country.  Taxes  which  add  to  prices  bear  upon 
the  inhabitants  of  sparsely  settled  districts  with  as 
much  weight,  and  in  many  cases  w^ith  much  more 
weight,  than  upon  the  inhabitants  of  great  cities. 


S04:  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

Taxes  upon  improvements  manifestly  fall  more 
lieavilj  upon  the  working  farmer,  a  great  part 
of  the  value  of  whose  farm  consists  of  the  value  of 
improvements,  than  upon  the  owners  of  valuable 
unimproved  land,  or  upon  those  whose  land,  as  that 
of  cities,  bears  a  higher  relation  in  value  to  the 
improvements. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  working  farmer  would  be  an 
immense  gainer  bj  the  change.  Where  he  would 
have  to  pay  more  taxes  on  the  value  of  his  land,  he 
would  be  released  from  the  taxes  now  levied  on  his 
stock  and  improvements,  and  from  all  the  indirect 
taxes  that  now  weigh  so  heavily  upon  him.  And 
as  the  effect  of  taxing  unimproved  land  as  heavily 
as  though  it  were  improved  would  be  to  compel 
mere  holders  to  sell,  and  to  destroy  mere  specu- 
lative values,  the  farmer  in  sparsely  settled  districts 
would  have  little  or  no  taxes  to  pay.  It  would  not 
be  until  equally  good  land  all  about  him  was  in  use, 
and  he  had  all  the  advantages  of  a  well  settled 
neighborhood,  that  his  taxes  would  be  more  than 
nominal. 

What  the  farmer  who  owns  his  own  farm  would 
lose  would  be  the  selling  value  of  his  land,  but  its 
usefulness  to  him  would  be  as  great  as  before  — 
greater  than  before,  in  fact,  as  he  would  get  larger 
returns  from  his  labor  upon  it ;  and  as  the  selling 
value  of  other  land  would  be  similarly  affected,  this 
loss  would  not  make  it  harder  for  liirn  to  get  another 


THE    AMERICAN    FARMER.  805 

farm  if  he  wished  to  move,  while  it  would  be 
easier  for  him  to  settle  his  children  or  to  get  more 
land  if  he  could  advantageously  cultivate  more.  The 
loss  would  be  nominal ;  the  gain  would  be  real.  It 
is  better  for  the  small  farmer,  and  especially  for  the 
small  farmer  with  a  growing  family,  that  labor  should 
be  high  than  that  land  should  be  high.  Paradoxi- 
cal as  it  may  appear,  small  landowners  do  not  profit 
by  the  rise  in  the  value  of  land.  On  the  contrary 
they  are  extinguished.  But  before  speaking  of  this 
let  me  show  how  much  misapprehension  there  is  in 
the  assumption  that  the  small  independent  farmers 
constitute,  and  will  continue  to  constitute,  the  ma- 
jority of  the  American  people. 

Agriculture  is  the  primitive  occupation  ;  the 
farmer  is  the  American  pioneer  ;  and  even  in  those 
cases,  comparatively  unimportant,  where  settlement 
is  begun  in  the  search  for  the  precious  metals,  it 
does  not  become  permanent  until  agriculture  in 
some  of  its  branches  takes  root.  But  as  population 
increases  and  industrial  development  goes  on,  the 
relative  importance  of  agriculture  diminishes.  That 
the  non-agricultural  population  of  the  United  States 
is  steadily  and  rapidly  gaining  on  the  agricultural 
population  is  of  course  obvious.  According  to  the 
census  report  the  urban  population  of  the  United 
States  was  in  1790  but  3.3  per  cent  of  the  whole 
population,  while  in  1880  it  had  risen  to  22.5  per 

20 


306  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

cent."^  Agriculture  is  jet  the  largest  occupation, 
but  in  the  aggregate  other  occupations  much  exceed 
it.  According  to  the  census,  which,  unsatisfactory 
as  it  is,  is  yet  the  only  authority  we  have,  the 
number  of  persons  engaged  in  agriculture  in  1880 
was  7,670,493  out  of  17,392,099  returned  as  engaged 
in  gainful  occupations  of  all  kinds.  Or,  if  we  take 
the  number  of  adult  males  as  a  better  comparison 
of  political  power,  we  may  find,  with  a  little  figuring, 
that  the  returns  show  6,491,116  males  of  sixteen 
years  and  over  engaged  in  agriculture,  against 
7,422,639  engaged  in  other  occupations.  According 
to  these  figures  the  agricultural  vote  is  already  in  a 
clear  minority  in  the  United  States,  while  the  pre- 
ponderance of  the  non-agricultural  vote,  already 
great,  is  steadily  and  rapidly  increasing,  f 

But  while  the  agricultural  population  of  the 
United  States  is  thus  already  in  a  minority,  the  men 
who  own  their  own  farms  are  already  in  a  minority 
in  the  agricultural  population.  According  to  the 
census  the  number  of  farms  and  plantations  in  the 
United  States  in  1880  was  4,008,907.     The  number 

*  It  is  an  illustration  of  the  carelessness  with  which  the  census  reports 
have  been  shoveled  together,  that  although  the  Compendium  (Table 
V)  gives  the  urban  population,  no  information  is  given  as  to  what  is 
meant  by  urban  nopulation.  The  only  clue  given  the  inquirer  is  that 
the  urban  population  is  stated  to  be  contained  in  286  cities.  Following 
up  this  clue  through  other  tables,  I  infer  that  the  population  of  towns 
and  cities  of  over  8,00n  people  are  meant. 

t  Comparing  the  returns  as  to  occupations  for  1870  with  1880,  it  will 
be  seen  that  while  during  the  last  decade  the  increase  of  persons  en- 
gaged in  agriculture  has  been  only  i'9.5  per  cent,  in  personal  and  pro- 
fessional services  the  increase  has  been  51.7  per  cent,  in  trade  and 
transportation,  51.9  per  cent,  and  in  manufacturing,  mechanical  and 
mining  industries,  41.7  per  cent. 


THE    AMERICAN    FARMER.  307 

of  tenant  farmers,  paying  money  rents  or  snare 
rents,  is  given  by  one  of  the  census  bulletins  at 
1,024,601.  This  would  leave  but  2,984,306  nominal 
owners  of  farms,  out  of  the  7,679,493  persons  em- 
ployed in  agriculture.  The  real  owners  of  theh* 
farms  must  be  greatly  less  even  tlian  this.  The 
most  common  form  of  agricultural  tenancy  in  the 
United  States  is  not  that  of  money  or  share  rent, 
but  of  mortgage.  What  proportion  of  American 
farms  occupied  by  their  nominal  owners  are  under 
mortgage,  we  can  only  guess.  But  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  the  number  of  mortgaged  farms 
must  largely  exceed  the  number  of  rented  farms, 
and  it  may  not  be  too  high  an  estimate  to  put  the 
number  of  mortgaged  farms  at  one-half  the  number 
of  un rented  ones.^     However  this  may  be,  it  is 

*  Could  the  facts  be  definitely  ascertained,  I  have  not  the  least  doubt 
that  they  would  show  that  at  least  fifty  per  cent  of  the  small  farm 
ownerships  in  the  older  states  are  merely  nominal.  That  that  number, 
at  least,  of  the  small  farmers  in  those  states  are  so  deeply  in  debt,  so 
covered  by  mortgages,  that  their  supreme  eftbrt  is  to  pay  the  constantly 
accruing  interest,  that  a  roof  may  be  kept  over  the  heads  of  the  family  — 
an  eifort  that  can  have  but  the  one  ending. 

In  the  newer  states  is  found  a  similar  condition  of  things.  The  only 
difference  is,  that  there  the  small  farmer  is  usually  compelled  to  com- 
mence with  what,  to  him,  is  a  mountain  of  debt.  'He  must  obtain  his 
land  upon  deferred  payments,  drawing  interest,  and  can  obtain  no  title 
until  those  deferred  payments,  with  the  interest,  are  paid  in  full.  He 
must  also  obtain  his  farm  implements  on  part  credit,  with  interest,  for 
which  he  mortgages  his  crops.  Credit  must  help  him  to  his  farm  stock, 
his  hovel,  his  seed,  his  food,  his  clothing.  With  this  load  of  debt  must 
the  small  farmer  in  the  newer  states  commence,  if  he  is  not  a  capitalist, 
or  he  cannot  even  make  a  beginning.  With  such  a  connnencement  the 
common  ending  is  not  long  in  being  found. 

In  traveling" through  those  sections,  one  of  the  most  notable  things 
that  meets  the  attention  of  the  observer  is  the  great  number  of  publica- 
tions, everywhere  met  with,  devoted  exclusively  to  the  advertising  of 
small  farm  holdings,  more  or  less  improved,  that  are  for  sale.  One  is 
almost  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  the  entire  class  of  small  farmers 
are  compelled,  from  some  cause,  to  find  the  best  and  quickest  market 
that  can  be  obtained  for  all  that  they  possess. 

The  entire  agricultural  regions  of  our  country  are  crowded  with  loan 
agents,  representing  capital  from  all  the  great  money  centers  of  the 


308  SOCIAL   PEOBLEMS. 

certain  that  the  farmers  who  really  own  their  farms 
are  but  a  minority  of  farmers,  and  a  small  minority 
of  those  engaged  in  agriculture. 

Further  than  this,  all  the  tendencies  of  the  time 
are  to  the  extinction  of  the  typical  American 
farmer — the  man  who  cultivates  his  own  acres  with 
his  own  hands.  This  movement  has  only  recently 
begun,  but  it  is  going  on,  and  must  go  on,  under 
present  conditions,  with  increasing  rapidity.  The 
remarkable  increase  in  the  large  farms  and  diminu- 
tion in  the  small  ones,  shown  by  the  analysis  of  the 
census  figures  which  will  be  found  in  the  appendix, 
is  but  evidence  of  the  fact  —  too  notorious  to  need 
the  proof  of  figures — that  the  tendency  to  concen- 
tration, which  in  so  many  other  branches  of  industry 
has  substituted  the  factory  for  self-employing  work- 
men, has  reached  agriculture.  One  invention  after 
another  has  already  given  the  large  farmer  a  crush- 
ing advantage  over  the  small  farmer,  and  invention 
is  still  going  on.*  And  it  is  not  merely  in  the  mak- 
ing of  his  crops,  but  in  their  transportation  and 
marketing,  and  in  the  purchase  of  his  supplies,  that 

world,  who  are  making  loans  and  taking  mortgages  upon  the  farms  to 
an  amount  that,  in  aggregate,  appears  to  be  almost  beyond  calculation. 
In  this  movement  the  local  capitalists,  lawyers  and  traders  appear  as 
active  coworkers.— iaTid  and  Labor  in  the  United  States,  by  Wm.  Godwin 
Moody,  New  York,  1883,  p.  85. 

*  One  of  the  most  important  agricultural  inventions  yet  made  is  just 
announced  in  the  long  sought  cotton-picker.  If  this  machine  will  do 
what  is  said  to  have  been  already  demonstrated,  it  must  revolutionize 
the  industry  of  the  cotton  states,  and  produce  as  far-reaching  social  and 
political  effects  as  the  invention  of  the  cotton-gin,  which  revived  and 
extended  negro  slavery  in  the  United  States,  and  made  it  an  aggressive 
political  power. 


THE    AMERICAN   FARMER.  B09 

the  large  producer  in  agriculture  gains  an  advantage 
over  the  small  one.  To  talk,  as  some  do,  about  the 
bonanza  farms  breaking  up  in  a  little  while  into 
small  homesteads,  is  as  foolish  as  to  talk  of  the 
great  shoe  factory  giving  way  again  to  journeymen 
shoemakers  with  their  lapstones  and  awls.  The 
bonanza  farm  and  the  great  wire-fenced  stock  ranch 
have  come  to  stay  while  present  conditions  last.  If 
they  show  themselves  first  on  new  land,  it  is  because 
there  is  on  new  land  the  greatest  freedom  of  devel- 
opment, but  the  tendency  exists  wherever  modern  in- 
dustrial influences  are  felt,  and  is  showing  itself  in 
the  British  Isles  as  well  as  in  our  older  states.^ 

This  tendency  means  the  extirpation  of  the  typi- 
cal American  farmer,  who  with  his  own  hands  and 
the  aid  of  his  boys  cultivates  his  own  small  farm. 
When  a  Brookljm  lawyer  or  Boston  banker  can  take 
a  run  in  a  palace  car  out  to  the  new  Korthwest ,  buy 
some  sections  of  land  ;  contract  for  having  it  broken 
up,  seeded,  reaped  and  threshed  ;  leave  on  it  a 
superintendent,  and  make  a  profit  on  his  first  year's 
crop  of  from  six  to  ten  thousand  dollars  a  section, 
what  chance  has  the  emigrant  farmer  of  the  old  type 
who  comes  toiling  along  in  the  wagon  which  con- 
tains his  wife  and  children,  and  the  few  traps  that 
with  his  team  constitute  his  entire  capital  ?     When 

*  The  persistence  of  %niall  properties  in  some  parts  of  the  continent 
of  Europe  is  due,  I  take  it,  to  the  prevalence  of  habits  differing  from 
those  of  the  people  of  English  speech,  and  to  the  fact  that  modern  ten- 
dencies are  not  yet  felt  there  as  strongly. 


810  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

English  and  American  capitalists  can  nm  miles  of 
barbed  wire  fence,  and  stock  the  great  enclosure 
with  large  herds  of  cattle,  which  can  be  tended,  car- 
ried to  market,  and  sold,  at  the  minimum  of  expense 
and  maximum  of  profit,  what  chance  has  the  man 
who  would  start  stock-raising  with  a  few  cows  ? 

From  the  typical  American  farmer  of  the  era  now 
beginning  to  pass  away,  two  types  are  differen- 
tiating—  the  capitalist  farmer  and  the  farm-laborer. 
The  former  does  not  work  with  his  own  hands,  but 
with  the  hands  of  other  men.  He  passes  but  a  por- 
tion of  his  time,  in  some  cases  hardly  any  of  it, 
npon  the  land  he  cultivates.  His  home  is  in  a  large 
town  or  great  city,  and  he  is,  perhaps,  a  banker  and 
speculator  as  well  as  a  farmer.  The  latter  is  prole- 
tarian, a  nomad —  part  of  the  year  a  laborer  and 
part  of  the  year  a  tramp,  migrating  from  farm  to 
farm  and  from  place  to  place,  without  family  or 
home  or  any  of  the  influences  and  responsibilities 
that  develop  manly  character.  If  our  treatment  of 
land  continues  as  now,  some  of  our  small  independ- 
ent farmers  will  tend  toward  one  of  these  extremes, 
and  many  more  will  tend  toward  the  other.  But 
besides  the  tendency  to  production  on  a  large  scale, 
which  is  ojDerating  to  extirpate  the  small  independ- 
ent farmer,  tliere  is,  in  the  rise  of  land  values, 
another  powerful  tendency  operating  in  the  same 
direction. 

At  the  looting  of  the  Summer  Palace  at  Pekin  by 


THE    AMEEICAN    FARMER.  311 

the  allied  forces  in  1860,  some  valuable  jewels  were 
obtained  by  private  soldiers.  How  long  did  they 
remain  in  such  possession?  If  a  Duke  of  Bruns- 
wick were  to  distribute  his  hoard  of  diamonds 
among  the  poor,  how  long  would  the  poor  continue 
to  hold  them?  The  peasants  of  Ireland  and  the 
costermongers  of  London  have  their  donkeys,  which 
are  worth  only  a  few  shillings.  But  if  by  any  com- 
bination of  circumstances  the  donkey  became  as 
valuable  as  a  blooded  horse,  no  peasant  or  coster- 
monger  would  be  found  driving  a  donkey.  Where 
chickens  are  cheap,  the  common  people  eat  them ; 
where  they  are  dear,  they  are  to  be  found  only  on  the 
tables  of  the  rich.  So  it  is  with  land.  As  it  be- 
comes valuable  it  must  gravitate  from  the  hands  of 
those  who  work  for  a  living  into  the  possession  of 
the  rich. 

What  has  caused  the  extreme  concentration  of 
land  ownership  in  England  is  not  so  much  the  con- 
version of  the  feudal  tenures  into  fee  simple,  the 
spoliation  of  the  religious  houses  and  the  enclosure 
of  the  commons,  as  this  effect  of  the  rise  in  the  value 
of  land.  The  small  estates,  of  which  there  were 
many  in  England  two  centuries  and  even  a  century 
ago,  have  become  parts  of  large  estates  mainly  by 
purchase.  They  gravitated  to  the  possession  of  the 
rich,  just  as  diamonds,  or  valuable  paintings,  or  fine 
horses,  gravitate  to  the  possession  of  the  rich. 

So  long  as  the  masses  are  fools  enough  to  permit 


312  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

private  property  in  land,  it  is  rightly  esteemed  tlie 
most  secure  possession.  It  cannot  be  burned,  or  de- 
stroyed by  any  accident ;  it  cannot  be  carried  off;  it 
tends  constantly  to  increase  in  value  with  the  growth 
of  population  and  improvement  in  the  arts.  Its  pos- 
session being  a  visible  sign  of  secure  wealth,  and 
putting  its  owner,  as  competition  becomes  sharp,  in 
the  position  of  a  lord  or  god  to  the  human  creatures 
who  have  no  legal  rights  to  this  planet,  carries  with 
it  social  consideration  and  deference.  For  these 
reasons  land  commands  a  higher  price  in  proportion 
to  the  income  it  yields  than  anything  else,  and 
the  man  to  whom  immediate  income  is  of  more  im- 
portance than  a  secure  investment  finds  it  cheaper 
to  rent  land  than  to  buy  it. 

Thus,  as  land  grew  in  value  in  England,  the  small 
owners  were  not  merely  tempted  or  compelled  by 
the  vicissitudes  of  life  to  sell  their  land,  but  it  be- 
came more  profitable  to  them  to  sell  it  than  to  hold 
it,  as  they  could  hire  land  cheaper  than  they  could 
hire  capital.  By  selling  and  then  renting,  the  Eng- 
lish farmer,  thus  converted  from  a  landowner  into  a 
tenant,  acquired,  for  a  time  at  least,  the  use  of  more 
land  and  more  capital,  and  the  ownership  of  land 
thns  gravitated  from  the  hands  of  those  whose  prime 
object  is  to  get  a  living  into  the  hands  of  those 
whose  prime  object  is  a  secure  investment. 

This  process  must  go  on  in  the  United  States  as 
land  rises  in  value.     We  may  observe  it  now.     It 


THE  AMERICAN  FARMER.  313 

is  in  the  newer  parts  of  our  growing  cities  that  we 
find  people  of  moderate  means  living  in  their  own 
houses.  Where  land  is  more  valuable,  we  find  such 
people  living  in  rented  houses.  In  such  cities, 
block  after  block  is  put  up  and  sold,  generally 
under  mortgage,  to  families  who  thus  endeavor  to 
secure  a  home  of  their  own.  But  I  think  it  is  the 
general  experience,  that  as  years  pass  by,  and  land 
acquires  a  greater  value,  these  houses  and 
lots  pass  from  the  nominal  ownership  of  dwel- 
lers into  the  possession  of  landlords,  and  are 
occupied  by  tenants.  So,  in  the  agricultural  dis- 
tricts, it  is  where  land  has  increased  little  if  any- 
thing in  value  that  we  find  homesteads  wliich  have 
been  long  in  the  possession  of  the  same  family  of 
working  farmers.  A  general  ofiicer  of  one  of  the 
great  trunk  railroad  lines  told  me  that  his  attention 
had  been  called  to  the  supreme  importance  of  the 
land  question  by-  the  great  westward  emigration 
of  farmers,  which,  as  the  result  of  extensive  inqui- 
ries, he  found  due  to  the  rise  of  land  values.  As 
land  rises  in  value  the  working  farmer  finds  it  more 
and  more  difficult  for  his  boys  to  get  farms  of  their 
own,  while  the  price  for  wliich  he  can  sell  will  give 
him  a  considerably  larger  tract  of  land  where  land 
is  cheaper ;  or  he  is  tempted  or  forced  to  mortgage, 
and  the  mortgage  eats  and  eats  until  it  eats  him 
out,  or  until  he  concludes  that  the  wisest  thing  he 
can  do  is   to   realize   the   difierence   between   the 


314  SOCIAL   PBOBLEMS. 

mortgage  and  the  selling  value  of  his  farm  and 
emigrate  west.  And  in  many  cases  he  commences 
again  under  the  load  of  a  mortgage ;  for  as  settle- 
ment is  novs^  going,  very  much  of  the  land  sold  to 
settlers  by  railroad  companies  and  speculators  is 
sold  upon  mortgage.  And  what  is  the  usual  result 
may  be  inferred  from  such  announcements  as  those 
placarded  in  the  union  depot  at  Council  Bluffs,  offer- 
ing thousands  of  improved  farms  for  sale  on  liberal 
terms  as  to  payment.  One  man  buys  upon  mort- 
gage, fails  in  his  payments,  or  gets  disgusted,  and 
moves  on,  and  the  farm  he  has  improved  is  sold  to 
another  man  upon  mortgage.  Generally  speaking, 
the  ultimate  result  is,  that  the  mortgagee,  not  the 
mortgagor,  becomes  the  full  owner.  Cultivation 
under  mortgage  is,  in  truth,  the  transitional  form 
between  cultivation  by  the  small  owner  and  cultiva- 
tion by  the  large  owner  or  by  tenant. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  typical  Amefrican  farmer,  the 
cultivator  of  a  small  farm  of  which  he  is  the  owner, 
is  the  product  of  conditions  under  which  labor  is 
dear  and  land  is  cheap.  As  these  conditions 
change,  labor  becoming  cheap  and  land  becoming 
dear,  he  must  pass  away  as  he  has  passed  away  in 
England. 

It  has  already  become  impossible  in  our  older 
states  for  a  man  starting  with  nothing  to  become  by 
his  labor  the  owner  of  a  farm.  As  the  public 
domain  disappears  this  will  become  impossible  all 


THE   AMERICAN   FARMER.  315 

over  the  United  States.  And  as  in  the  accidents 
and  mutations  of  life  the  small  owners  are  shaken 
from  their  holdings,  or  find  it  impossible  to  compete 
with  the  grand  culture  of  capitalistic  farming,  they 
will  not  be  able  to  recover,  and  must  swell  the  mass 
of  tenants  and  laborers.  Thus  the  concentration  of 
land  ownership  is  proceeding,  and  must  proceed,  if 
private  property  in  land  be  continued.  So  far  from 
it  being  to  the  interest  of  the  working  farmer  to 
defend  private  property  in  land,  its  continued  rec- 
ognition means  that  his  children,  if  not  himself, 
shall  lose  all  right  whatever  in  their  native  soil ; 
shall  sink  from  the  condition  of  free  men  to  that  of 
serfs. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

CITY   AND    COUNTRY. 

CoBBETT  compared  London,  even  in  his  day,  to  a 
great  wen  growing  upon  the  fair  face  of  England. 
There  is  truth  in  such  comparison.  [N'othing  more 
clearly  shows  the  unhealthiness  of  present  social 
tendencies  than  the  steadily  increasing  concentra- 
tion of  population  in  great  cities.  There  are  about 
12,000  head  of  beef  cattle  killed  weekly  in  the 
shambles  of  New  York,  while,  exclusive  of  what 
goes  through  for  export,  there  are  about  2,100  beef 
carcasses  per  week  brought  in  refrigerator  cars  from 
Chicago.  Consider  what  this  single  item  in  the 
food  supply  of  a  great  city  suggests  as  to  the  ele- 
ments of  fertility,  which,  instead  of  being  returned 
to  the  soil  from  which  they  come,  are  swept  out 
through  the  sowers  of  our  great  cities.  The  reverse 
of  this  is  the  destructive  character  oi  our  agricul- 
ture, which  is  year  by  year  decreasing  the  produc- 
tiveness of  our  soil,  and  virtual!}^  lessening  the  area 
of  land  available  for  the  support  of  our  increasing 
millions. 

In  all  the  aspects  of  human  life  similar  effects  are 
being  produced.  The  vast  populations  of  these 
great  cities  are  utterly  divorced  from  all  the  genial 

316 


CITY    AND    COUNTRY.  31Y 

influences  of  nature.  The  great  mass  of  them  never, 
from  year's  end  to  year's  end,  press  foot  upon  mother 
earth,  or  pluck  a  wild  flower,  or  hear  the  tinkle  of 
brooks,  the  rustle  of  grain,  or  the  murmur  of  leaves 
as  the  light  breeze  comes  through  the  woods.  All 
the  sweet  and  joyous  influences  of  nature  are  shut 
out  from  them.  Her  sounds  are  drowned  by  the 
roar  of  the  streets  and  the  clatter  of  the  people  in  the 
next  room,  or  the  next  tenement ;  her  sights,  by  tall 
buildings,  which  reduce  the  horizon  to  one  of  feet. 
Sun  and  moon  rise  and  set,  and  in  solemn  procession 
the  constellations  move  across  the  sky,  but  these 
imprisoned  multitudes  behold  them  only  as  might  a 
man  in  a  deep  quarry.  The  white  snow  falls  in 
winter  only  to  become  dirty  slush  on  the  pavements, 
and  as  the  sun  sinks  in  summer  a  worse  than  noon- 
day heat  is  refracted  from  masses  of  brick  and  stone. 
Wisely  liave  the  authorities  of  Philadelphia  labeled 
with  its  name  every  tree  in  their  squares  ;  for  how 
else  shall  the  children  growing  up  in  such  cities 
know  one  tree  from  another  ?  how  shall  they  even 
know  grass  from  clover  ? 

This  life  of  great  cities  is  not  the  natural  life  of 
man.  He  must,  under  such  conditions,  deteriorate, 
physically,  mentally,  morally.  Yet  the  evil  does 
not  end  here.  This  is  only  one  side  of  it.  This 
unnatural  life  of  the  great  cities  means  an  equally 
unnatural  life  in  the  country.  Just  as  the  wen  or 
tumor,  drawing  the  wholesome  juices  of  the  body 


318  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS. 

into  its  poisonous  vortex,  impoverishes  all  other 
parts  of  the  frame,  so  does  the  crowding  of  human 
beings  into  great  cities  impoverish  human  life  in  the 
country. 

Man  is  a  gregarious  animal.  He  cannot  live  by 
bread  alone.  If  he  suffers  in  body,  mind  and  soul 
from  being  crowded  into  too  close  contact  with  his 
fellows,  so  also  does  he  suffer  from  being  separated 
too  far  from  them.  The  beauty  and  the  grandeur 
of  nature  pall  upon  man  where  other  men  are  not  to 
be  met ;  her  infinite  diversity  becomes  monotonous 
where  there  is  not  human  companionship  ;  his  physi- 
cal comforts  are  poor  and  scant,  his  nobler  powers 
languish  ;  all  that  makes  him  higher  than  the  ani- 
mal suffers  for  want  of  the  stimulus  that  comes  from 
tlie  contact  of  man  with  man.  Consider  the  barren- 
ness of  the  isolated  farmer^s  life  —  the  dull  round  of 
work  and  sleep,  in  which  so  much  of  it  passes. 
Consider,  what  is  still  worse,  the  monotonous  exist- 
ence to  which  his  wife  is  condemned ;  its  lack  of 
recreation  and  excitement,  and  of  gratifications  of 
taste,  and  of  the  sense  of  harmony  and  beauty  ;  its 
steady  drag  of  cares  and  toils  that  make  women 
worn  and  wrinkled  when  they  should  be  in  their 
bloom.  Even  the  discomforts  and  evils  of  the 
crowded  tenement  house  are  not  worse  than  the  dis- 
comforts and  evils  of  such  a  life.  Yet  as  the  cities 
grow,  unwholesomely  crowding  people  together  till 
they  are  packed  in  tiers,  family  above  family,  so  are 


CITY    AND    COUNTRY.  319 

they  unwholesomely  separated  in  the  country.  The 
tendency  everywhere  that  this  process  of  urban  con- 
centration is  going  on,  is  to  make  the  life  of  the 
country  poor  and  hard,  and  to  rob  it  of  the  social 
stimulus  and  social  gratifications  that  are  so  neces- 
sary to  human  beings.  The  old  healthy  social  life 
of  village  and  townland  is  everywhere  disappearing. 
In  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  the  thinning  out  of 
population  in  the  agricultural  districts  is  as  marked 
as  is  its  concentration  in  cities  and  large  towns. 
In  Ireland,  as  you  ride  along  the  roads,  your  car- 
driver,  if  he  be  an  old  man,  will  point  out  to  you 
spot  after  spot,  which,  when  he  was  a  boy,  were  the 
sites  of  populous  hamlets,  echoing  in  the  summer 
evenings  with  the  laughter  of  children  and  the  joy- 
ous sports  of  young  people,  but  now  utterly  desolate, 
showing,  as  the  only  evidences  of  human  occupa- 
tion, the  isolated  cabins  of  miserable  herds.  In 
Scotland,  where  in  such  cities  as  Glasgow,  human 
beings  are  so  crowded  together  that  two-thirds  of 
the  families  live  in  a  single  room,  where  if  you  go 
through  the  streets  of  a  Saturday  night,  you  will 
think,  if  you  have  ever  seen  the  Terra  del  Fuegans, 
that  these  poor  creatures  might  envy  them,  there 
are  wide  tracts  once  populous,  now  given  up  to 
cattle,  to  grouse  and  to  deer — glens  that  once  sent 
out  their  thousand  fighting  men  now  tenanted  by  a 
couple  of  gamekeepers.  So  across  the  Tweed, 
while  London,  Liverpool,  Leeds,  Manchester  and 


320  SOCIAL    PROBLEMS. 

Nottingham  liave  grown,  the  village  life  of  "  merrie 
England  "  is  all  but  extinct.  Two-thirds  of  the  entire 
population  is  crowded  into  cities.  Clustering 
hamlets,  such  as  those  through  w^hich,  according  to 
tradition,  Shakespeare  and  his  comrades  rollicked, 
ha^'e  disappeared  ;  village  greens  where  stood  the 
may-pole,  and  the  cloth  yard  arrow  flew  from  the 
longbow  to  the  bull's  eye  of  the  butt,  are  plowed 
under  or  enclosed  by  the  walls  of  some  lordly  de- 
mesne, while  here  and  there  stand  mementoes  alike 
of  a  bygone  faith  and  a  departed  population,  in  great 
churches  or  their  remains  —  churches  such  as  that 
now  could  never  be  filled  unless  the  congregations 
were  brought  from  town  by  railroad  excursion 
trains. 

So  in  the  agricultural  districts  of  our  older  States 
the  same  tendency  may  be  beheld ;  but  it  is  in  the 
newer  States  that  its  fullest  expression  is  to  be 
found — in  ranches  measured  by  square  miles,  where 
half-savage  cowboys,  whose  social  life  is  confined  to 
the  excitement  of  the  "round-up"  or  a  periodical 
"  drunk"  in  a  railroad  town  ;  and  in  bonanza  farms, 
where  in  the  spring  the  eye  wearies  of  seas  of  waving 
grain  before  resting  on  a  single  home -^ farms  where 
the  cultivators  are  lodged  in  barracks,  and  only  the 
superintendent  enjoys  the  luxury  of  a  wife. 

That  present  tendencies  are  hurrying  modern 
society  toward  inevitable  catastrophe,  is  apparent 
from  the    constantly  increasing    concentration  of 


CITY   AND   COUNTRY.  321 

population  in  great  cities,  if  in  nothing  else.  A 
century  ago  New  York  a§id  its  suburbs  contained 
about  25,000  souls ;  now  they  contain  over 
2,000,000.  The  same  growth  for  another  century 
would  put  here  a  population  of  160,000,000.  Such 
a  city  is  impossible.  But  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
cities  of  ten  and  twenty  millions,  that,  if  present 
tendencies  continue,  children  now  born  shall  see? 

On  this,  however,  I  will  not  dwell.  I  merely 
wish  to  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  this  concentra- 
tion of  population  impoverishes  social  life  at  the 
extremities,  as  well  as  poisons  it  at  the  center  ;  that 
it  is  as  injurious  to  the  farmer  as  it  is  to  the  inhab- 
itant of  the  city  slum. 

This  unnatural  distribution  of  population,  like  that 
unnatural  distribution  of  wealth  which  gives  one 
man  hundreds  of  millions  and  makes  other  men 
tramps,  is  the  result  of  the  action  of  the  new  indus- 
trial forces  in  social  conditions  not  adapted  to  them. 
It  springs  primarily  from  our  treatment  of  land  as 
private  property,  and  secondarily  from  our  neglect 
to  assume  social  functions  which  material  progress 
forces  upon  us.  Its  causes  removed,  there  would 
ensue  a  natural  distribution  of  population,  which 
would  give  every  one  breathing  space  and  neighbor- 
hood. 

It  is  in  this  that  would  be  the  great  gain  of  the 

farmer  in  the  measures  I  have  proposed.     With  the 

resumption  of  common  rights  to  the  soil,  the  over- 
21 


322  SOCIAL   PROBLEMS.  [ 

crowded  population  of  the  cities  would  spread,  the 
scattered  population  of  the  country  would  grow  ; 
denser.  When  no  individual  could  profit  by  j 
advance  in  the  value  of  land,  when  no  one  need  fear  ! 
that  liis  children  could  be  jostled  out  of  their  i 
natural  rights,  no  one  would  want  more  land  than  \ 
he  could  profitably  use.  Instead  of  scraggy,  half  | 
cultivated  farms,  separated  by  great  tracts  lying  ; 
idle,  homesteads  would  come  close  to  each  other.  ' 
Emigrants  would  not  toil  through  unused  acres,  nor  \ 
grain  be  hauled  for  thousand  of  miles  past  half-tilled  ; 
land.  The  use  of  machinery  would  not  be  aban-  I 
doned  :  where  culture  on  a  large  scale  secured  econ-  ; 
omies  it  would  still  go  on  ;  but  with  the  breaking  1 
up  of  monopolies,  the  rise  in  wages  and  the  i 
better  distribution  of  wealth,  industry  of  this  kind  ] 
would  assume  the  cooperative  form.  Agriculture  i 
would  cease  to  be  destructive,  and  would  become  ; 
more  intense,  obtaining  more  from  the  soil  and  ■ 
returning  what  it  borrowed.  Closer  settlement  ] 
would  give  rise  to  economies  of  all  kinds  ;  labor  ' 
would  be  far  more  productive,  and  rural  life  would  I 
partake  of  the  conveniences,  recreations  and  stimu-  ! 
lations  now  only  to  be  obtained  by  the  favored  ; 
classes  in  large  towns.  The  monopoly  of  land  ^ 
broken  up,  it  seems  to  me  that  rural  life  would  tend  ■ 
to  revert  to  the  primitive  type  of  the  village  sur-  , 
rounded  by  cultivated  fields,  with  its  common  ; 
pasturage  and  woodlands.     But  however  this  may  J 


CITY   AND    COUNTRY.  323 

be,  the  working  farmer  would  participate  fully  in  all 
the  enormous  economies  and  all  the  immense  gains 
which   society  can   secure  by  the   substitution   of 
orderly  cooperation  for  the   anarchy  of  reckless, 
greedy  scrambling. 

That  the  masses  now  festering  in  the  tenement 
houses  of  our  cities,  under  conditions  which  breed 
disease  and  death,  and  vice  and  crime,  should  each 
family  have  its  healthful  home,  set  in  its  garden  ; 
that  the  working  farmer  should  be  able  to  make  a 
living  with  a  daily  average  of  two  or  three  hours' 
work,  which  more  resembled  healthy  recreation  than 
toil  ;  that  his  home  should  be  replete  with  all  the 
conveniences  yet  esteemed  luxuries  ;  that  it  should 
be  supplied  with  light  and  heat,  and  power  if  needed, 
and  connected  with  those  of  his  neighbors  by  the  tele- 
phone ;  that  his  family  should  be  free  to  libraries,  and 
lectures,  and  scientific  apparatus,  and  instruction  ; 
that  they  should  be  able  to  visit  the  theatre,  or 
concert,  or  opera,  as  often  as  they  cared  to,  and 
occasionally  to  make  trips  to  other  parts  of  the 
country  or  to  Europe  ;  that,  in  short,  not  merely 
the  successful  man,  the  one  in  a  thousand,  but  the 
man  of  ordinary  parts  and  ordinary  foresight  and 
prudence,  should  enjoy  all  that  advancing  civiliza- 
tion can  bring  to  elevate  and  expand  human  life, 
seems,  in  the  light  of  existing  facts,  as  wild  a  dream 
as  ever  entered  the  brain  of  hasheesh  eater.    Yet  the 


324  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

powers  already  within  the  grasp  of  mat]  make  it 
easily  possible. 

In  our  mad  scramble  to  get  on  top  of  one  another, 
how  little  do  we  take  of  the  good  things  that  boun- 
tiful nature  oifers  us.  Consider  this  fact :  To  the 
majority  of  people  in  such  countries  as  England, 
and  even  largely  in  the  United  States,  fruit  is  a 
luxury.  Yet  mother  earth  is  not  niggard  of  her 
fruit.  If  we  chose  to  have  it  so,  every  road  might 
be  lined  with  fruit  trees. 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Heee,  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  gist  and  meaning  of 
the  great  social  problems  of  our  time  :  More  is 
given  to  us  than  to  any  people  at  any  time  before  ; 
and,  therefore^  more  is  required  of  us.  We  have 
made,  and  still  are  making,  enormous  advances  on 
material  lines.  It  is  necessary  that  we  commensu- 
rately  advance  on  moral  lines.  Civilization,  as  it 
progresses,  requires  a  higher  conscience,  a  keener 
sense  of  justice,  a  warmer  brotherhood,  a  wider, 
loftier,  truer  public  spirit.  Failing  these,  civiliza- 
tion must  pass  into  destruction.  It  cannot  be  main- 
tained on  the  ethics  of  savagery.  For  civilization 
knits  men  more  and  more  closely  together,  and  con- 
stantly tends  to  subordinate  the  individual  to  the 
whole,  and  to  make  more  and  more  important 
social  conditions. 

The  social  and  political  problems  that  confront 
us  are  darker  than  they  realize  who  have  not  given 
thought  to  them  ;  yet  their  solution  is  a  mere  mat- 
ter of  the  proper  adjustment  of  social  forces.  Man 
masters  material  nature  by  studying  her  laws,  and 
in  conditions  and  powers  that  seemed  most  for- 
bidding, has  already  found  his  richest  storehouses 

325 


826  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

and  most  powerful  servants.  Although  we  have  but 
begun  to  systematize  our  knowledge  of  physical  na- 
ture, it  is  evident  she  will  refuse  us  no  desire  if  we 
but  seek  its  gratification  in  accordance  with  her 
laws. 

And  that  faculty  of  adapting  means  to  ends  which 
has  enabled  man  to  convert  the  once  impassable 
ocean  into  his  highway,  to  transport  himself  with  a 
speed  which  leaves  the  swallow  behind,  to  annihilate 
space  in  the  communication  of  his  thoughts,  to  con- 
vert the  rocks  into  warmth  and  light  and  power  and 
material  for  a  thousand  uses,  to  weigh  the  stars  and 
analyze  the  sun,  to  make  ice  under  the  equator,  and 
bid  flowers  bloom  in  northern  winters,  will  also, 
if  he  will  use  it,  enable  him  to  overcome  social  diffi- 
culties and  avoid  social  dangers.  The  domain  of 
law  is  not  confined  to  physical  nature.  It  just  as 
certainly  embraces  the  mental  and  moral  universe, 
and  social  growth  and  social  life  have  their  laws  as 
fixed  as  those  of  matter  and  of  motion.  Would  we 
make  social  life  healthy  and  happy,  we  must  dis- 
cover those  laws,  and  seek  our  ends  in  accordance 
with  them. 

I  ask  no  one  who  may  read  this  book  to  accept 
my  views.     I  ask  him  to  think  for  himself. 

Whoever,  laying  aside  prejudice  and  self-interest, 
will  honestly  and  carefully  make  up  his  own  mind 
as  to  the  causes  and  the  cure  of  the  social  evils  that 
are  so  apparent,  does,  in  that,  the  most  important 


Conclusion.  327 

tiling  in  his  power  toward  their  removal.  This 
primary  obligation  devolves  upon  us  individually, 
as  citizens  and  as  men.  Whatever  else  we  may  be 
able  to  do,  this  must  come  first.  For  "if  the  blind 
lead  the  blind,  they  both  shall  fall  into  the  ditch." 

Social  reform  is  not  to  be  secured  by  noise  and 
shouting ;  by  complaints  and  denunciation  ;  by  the 
formation  of  parties,  or  the  making  of  revolutions  ; 
but  by  the  awakening  of  thought  and  the  progress 
of  ideas.  Until  there  be  correct  thought,  there  can- 
not be  right  action  ;  and  when  there  is  correct 
thought,  right  action  will  follow.  Power  is  always 
in  the  hands  of  the  masses  of  men.  What  oppresses 
the  masses  is  their  own  ignorance,  their  own  short- 
sighted selfishness. 

The  great  work  of  the  present  for  every  man,  and 
every  organization  of  men,  who  would  improve 
social  conditions,  is  the  work  of  education  —  the 
propagation  of  ideas.  It  is  only  as  it  aids  this  that 
anything  else  can  avail.  And  in  this  work  every 
one  who  can  think  may  aid  —  first  by  forming  clear 
ideas  himself,  and  then  by  endeavoring  to  arouse 
the  thought  of  those  with  whom  he  comes  in  con- 
tact. 

Many  there  are,  too  depressed,  too  embruted 
with  hard  toil  and  the  struggle  for  animal  existence, 
to  think  for  themselves.  Therefore  the  obligation 
devolves  with  all  the  more  force  on  tliose  who  can. 
If  thinking  men  are  few,  they  are  for  that  reason  all 


328  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

the  more  powerful.  Let  no  man  imagine  that  he 
has  no  influence.  Whoever  he  may  be,  and  where- 
ever  he  may  be  placed,  the  man  who  thinks  becomes 
a  light  and  a  power.  That  for  every  idle  word  men 
may  speak  they  shall  give  an  account  at  the  day  of 
judgment,  seems  a  hard  saying.  But  what  more 
clear  than  that  the  theory  of  the  persistence  of  force, 
which  teaches  us  that  every  movement  continues  to 
act  and  react,  must  apply  as  well  to  the  universe  of 
mind  as  to  that  of  matter.  Whoever  becomes 
imbued  with  a  noble  idea  kindles  a  flame  from  which 
other  torches  are  lit,  and  influences  those  with  whom 
he  comes  in  contact,  be  they  few  or  many.  How 
far  that  influence,  thus  perpetuated,  may  extend,  it 
is  not  given  to  him  here  to  see.  But  it  may  be  that 
the  Lord  of  the  Vineyard  will  know. 

As  I  said  in  the  first  of  these  papers,  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization  necessitates  the  giving  of  greater 
and  greater  attention  and  intelligence  to  public 
affairs.  And  for  this  reason  I  am  convinced  that 
we  make  a  great  mistake  in  depriving  one  sex  of 
voice  in  public  matters,  and  that  we  could  in  no  way 
so  increase  the  attention,  the  intelligence  and  the 
devotion  which  may  be  brought  to  the  solution  of 
social  problems  as  by  enfranchising  our  women. 
Even  if  in  a  ruder  state  of  society  the  intelligence 
of  one  sex  suffices  for  the  management  of  common 
interests,  the  vastly  more  intricate,  more  delicate  and 
more  important  questions  which  the  progress  of  civili- 


CONCLUSION.  329 

zation  makes  of  public  moment,  require  the  intelli- 
gence of  women  as  of  men,  and  that  we  never  can 
obtain  until  we  interest  them  in  public  affairs.  And 
I  have  come  to  believe  that  very  much  of  the  in- 
attention, the  flippancy,  the  want  of  conscience, 
which  we  see  manifested  in  regard  to  public  matters 
of  the  greatest  moment,  arises  from  the  fact  that  we 
debar  our  women  from  taking  their  proper  part  in 
these  matters.  IS'othing  will  fully  interest  men  un- 
less it  also  interests  women.  There  are  those  who 
say  that  women  are  less  intelligent  than  men  ;  but 
who  will  say  that  they  are  less  influential  ? 

And  I  am  flrnily  convinced,  as  I  have  already 
said,  that  to  effect  any  great  social  improvement, 
it  is  sympathy  rather  than  self-intereSt,  the  sense 
of  duty  rather  than  the  desire  for  self-advance- 
ment, that  must  be  appealed  to.  Envy  is  akin 
to  admiration,  and  it  is  the  admiration  which  the 
rich  and  powerful  excite  which  secures  the  perpetua- 
tion of  aristocracies.  Where  ten  penny  Jack  looks 
with  contempt  upon  ninepenny  Joe,  the  social  in- 
justice which  makes  the  masses  of  the  people  hewers 
of  wood  and  drawers  of  water  for  a  privileged  few, 
has  the  strongest  bulwarks.  It  is  told  of  a  certain 
Florentine  agitator  that  when  he  had  received  a  new 
pair  of  boots,  he  concluded  that  all  popular  griev- 
ances were  satisfied.  How  often  do  we  see  this  story 
illustrated  anew  in  working-men^s  movements  and 


S30  SOCIAL  PROBLEMS. 

trade-union  struggles  ?    This  is  the  weakness  of  all 
movements  tliat  appeal  only  to  self-interest. 

And  as  man  is  so  constituted  that  it  is  utterly  im- 
possible for  him  to  attain  happiness  save  by  seek- 
ing the  happiness  of  others,  so  does  it  seem  to  be  of 
the  nature  of  things  that  individuals  and  classes  can 
obtain  their  own  just  rights  only  by  struggling  for 
the  rights  of  others.  To  illustrate  :  When  workmen 
in  any  trade  form  a  trades  union,  they  gain,  by  sub- 
ordinating the  individual  interests  of  each  to  the  com- 
mon interests  of  all,  the  power  of  making  better  terms 
witli  employers.  But  this  power  goes  only  a  little 
way  when  the  combination  of  the  trades  union  is 
met  and  checked  by  the  pressure  for  employment 
of  those  outside  its  limits.  No  combination  of 
workmen  can  raise  their  own  wages  much  above  the 
level  of  ordinary  wages.  The  attempt  to  do  so  is 
like  the  attempt  to  bail  out  a  boat  without  stopping 
up  the  seams.  For  this  reason,  it  is  necessary,  if 
workmen  would  accomplish  anything  real  and  per- 
manent for  themselves,  not  merely  that  each  trade 
should  seek  the  common  interests  of  all  trades,  but 
that  skilled  workmen  should  address  themselves  to 
those  general  measures  which  will  improve  the  con- 
dition of  unskilled  workmen.  Those  who  are  most 
to  be  considered,  those  for  whose  help  the  struggle 
must  be  made,  if  labor  is  to  be  enfranchised,  and 
social  justice  won,  are  those  least  able  to  help  or 
struggle  for  themselves,  Uiose  who  have  no  advan- 


CONCLTJSIO]^.  331 

tage  of  property  or  skill  or  intelligence,  —  the  men 
and  women  who  are  at  the  very  bottom  of  the  social 
scale.  In  securing  the  equal  rights  of  these  we  shall 
secure  the  equal  rights  of  all. 

Hence  it  is,  as  Mazzini  said,  that  it  is  around 
the  standard  of  duty  rather  than  around  the  standard 
of  self-interest  that  men  must  rally  to  win  the  rights 
of  man.  And  herein  may  we  see  the  deep  philoso- 
phy of  Him  who  bid  men  love  their  neighbors  as 
themselves. 

In  that  spirit,  and  in  no  other,  is  the  power  to 
solve  social  problems  and  carry  civilization  onward. 


APPENDIX. 


THE  U.  S.  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS. 

The  reference  on  page  64  to  the  evident  incorrectness  of 
the  statement  of  the  Census  Report  as  to  the  decrease  in  the 
average  size  of  farms  in  the  United  States,  led,  when  origi- 
nally published  in  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper,  to 
the  following  controversy,  which  is  given  as  there  printed : 

SUPERINTENDENT  WALKER's  EXPLANATION. 

Boston,  May  10,  1883. 
To  the  Editor  of  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper  : 

Sir — In  Mr.  Henry  George's  fifth  paper  on  the  "Problems 
of  the  Time  "  he  declares  that  the  statement  of  the  Census 
Bureau  to  the  effect  that  the  average  size  of  farms  is 
decreasing  in  the  United  States,  is  inconsistent  not  only  with 
"  facts  obvious  all  over  the  United  States,"  but  with  "  the 
returns  furnished  by  the  Census  Bureau  itself";  and  at  a 
later  point,  after  citing  the  Census  Statistics  of  the  number 
of  farms  of  certain  classes,  as  to  size,  in  1870,  and  again  in 
1880,  he  says:  "  How,  in  the  face  of  these  figures,  the  Census 
Bureau  can  report  a  decline  in  the  average  size  of  farms  in 
the  United  States  from  153  acres  in  1870  to  134  acres  in  1880, 
I  cannot  understand." 

Perhaps  I  can  offer  an  explanation  which  may  assist  Mr. 
George  toward  an  understanding  of  what  seems  to  him 
incomprehensible. 

The  average  size  of  farms  in  1870  having  been  153  acres, 
any  increase  during  the  intervening  decade  in  the  number 
of  farms  below  this  limit  would  tend  to  lower  the  average 
size  of  farms  in  1880 ;  any  increase  in  the  number  of  farms 
above  that  limit  would  tend  to  raise  the  average  for  1880. 

Now,  in  fact,  there  has  been  a  greater  increase,  on  the 
whole,  in  the  number  of  farms  below  153  acres,  than  in  the 
number  above  153  acres,  and,  consequently,  the  average  sizo 
has  been  reduced. 


334  APPENDIX. 


If  I  have  not  made  the  reason  of  the  case  plain,  I  shall 
be  happy  to  resort  to  a  more  elementary  statement,  illus- 
trated with  diagrams,  if  desired.    Respectfully  yours, 

Fkancis  a.  Walker. 


EXPLANATION. 

[From  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper,  June  9, 1883.] 

I  must  ask  the  patience  of  the  readers  of  these  articles  if 
in  this  I  make  a  digression,  having  reference  to  the  letter 
from  Gen.  Francis  A.  Walker,  Superintendent  of  the  Ninth 
and  Tenth  Censuses,  which  appeared  in  the  last  issue  of  this 
journal. 

To  my  comprehension,  General  Walker  has  "  not  made  the 
reason  of  the  case  plain,"  nor  has  he  explained  the  discrep- 
ancies I  pointed  out.  I  shall  be  happy  to  have  his  more 
elementary  statement,  and,  if  he  will  be  so  kind,  to  have  it 
illustrated  with  diagrams.  But,  in  the  meantime,  as  his 
reassertion  of  the  statement  of  the  Census  Report  carries 
the  weight  of  official  authority  and  professional  reputation, 
I  propose  in  this  paper  to  show  in  more  detail  my  reasons 
for  disputing  its  accuracy. 

It  is  specifically  asserted  in  the  reports  of  the  Tenth 
Census  that  the  average  size  of  farms  in  the  United  States 
decreased  during  the  decade  ending  in  1880  from  153  acres 
to  134  acres,  and  this  assertion  has  been  quoted  all  over  the 
country  as  a  conclusive  reason  why  the  people  of  the  United 
States  should  not  trouble  themselves  about  the  reckless 
manner  in  which  what  is  now  left  of  their  once  great  public 
domain  is  being  disposed  of,  and  the  rapid  rate  at  which  it 
is  passing  in  enormous  tracts  into  the  private  estates  of  non- 
resident speculators,  English  lords  and  foreign  syndicates. 
All  over  the  country  the  press  has  pointed  to  this  declara- 
tion of  the  Census  Bureau  as  conclusive  proof,  which  no  one 
could  question  (and  which,  up  to  the  publication  of  the  fifth 
paper  of  this  series,  no  one  seems  to  have  thought  of  ques- 
tioning), that  these  things  need  excite  no  uneasiness,  since 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      825 

the  steady  tendency  is  to  the  subdivision  of  large  landhold- 
ings.  The  inference  would  not  be  valid  even  if  the 
alleged  fact  were  true.  But  that  I  will  not  now  discuss.  I 
dispute  the  fact. 

General  Walker  states  that,  during  the  last  decade,  "  there 
has  been  a  greater  increase,  on  the  whole,  in  the  number  of 
farms  below  153  acres  than  in  the  number  above  153  acres." 
This  I  shall  show  from  General  Walker's  own  official  report 
is  not  true  —  is,  in  fact,  the  very  reverse  of  the  truth.  But 
such  a  misstatement  of  fact,  astonishing  as  it  is,  is  not  so 
astonishing  as  the  misstatement  of  j^rinciple  which  precedes 
and  follows  it —  viz.,  to  quote  the  remainder  of  the  sentence, 
"  and  consequently  the  average  size  has  been  reduced." 

I  have  occasionally  met  thoughtless  people  who  talked  of 
discounts  of  150  and  200  per  cent ;  I  once  knew  a  man  who 
insisted  that  another  man  was  twice  as  old  as  he  was, 
because  on  a  certain  birthday,  years  before,  he  had  been 
twice  as  old ;  but  I  never  yet  met  anybody,  except  very 
little  children,  to  whom  all  coins  were  pennies,  who  would 
say  that  when  a  shopkeeper  received  one  piece  of  money 
and  handed  out  two,  he  had  consequently  reduced  the  amount 
of  money  in  his  drawer !  Yet  this  is  just  such  a  statement 
as  that  made  by  General  Walker.  In  asserting  that  the 
general  increase  in  the  number  of  farms  under  a  certain 
size  than  in  the  number  above  that  size  must  reduce  the  aver- 
age size.  General  Walker  ignores  area,  just  as  any  one  who 
would  say  that  an  amount  of  money  had  been  reduced  by 
adding  one  coin  and  taking  away  two  would  ignore  value. 
Take,  for  instance,  a  farm  of  100  acres.  Add  to  it  two  farms 
of  50  acres  each  and  one  farm  of  400  acres.  Here  there  has 
been  a  greater  increase  in  the  number  of  farms  below  100 
acres  than  the  number  above  100  acres,  but  so  far  from  the 
average  having  consequently  been  reduced,  it  has  been 
increased  from  100  to  150  acres ! 

The  truth  is,  of  course,  that  number  is  only  one  of  the 
factors  of  average,  which  is  in  itself  an  expression  of  propor- 
tion between  number  and  some  other  property  of  things, 
such  as  size,  weight,  length,  value,  etc.    An  average  does 


336  APPENDIX. 

not,  as  General  Walker  says,  increase  or  diminish  according 
to  the  numerical  preponderance,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  of 
the  items  added,  but  according  to  the  preponderance  in 
number  and  quality.  Thus,  though  the  addition  of  any 
farm  of  less  than  153  acres  would  tend  to  reduce  an  average 
of  153  acres,  the  addition  of  one  farm  of  three  acres  would 
tend  much  more  strongly  to  reduce  the  average  than  the 
addition  of  one  of  152  acres,  and  the  addition  of 
one  farm  of  1,000  acres  would  do  much  more  to 
increase  the  average  than  the  addition  of  several  farms  of 
154  acres.  Just  as  weights  upon  the  arms  of  a  lever  tend 
more  strongly  to  counterbalance  each  other  the  further  they 
are  placed  from  the  fulcrum,  so  increase  in  the  number  of 
farms  will  tend  more  strongly  to  raise  or  reduce  the  average 
the  further  in  point  of  area  the  new  farms  are  from  the  pre- 
vious average.  And  it  may  be  worth  while  to  remark  that 
while  the  possibilities  on  the  side  of  decrease  are  limited, 
the  possibilities  on  the  side  of  increase  are  unlimited.  A 
farm  less  than  153  acres  can  only  be  less  by  something  within 
153  acres ;  but  a  farm  greater  than  153  acres  may  be 
greater  by  10,000  or  100,000,  or  any  larger  number  of  acres. 

I  speak  of  this  simple  and  obvious  principle  not  merely 
to  show  the  curious  confusion  of  thought  which  General 
AValker  exhibits,  but  for  the  purpose  of  pointing  out  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  facts  I  have  previously  cited— a  significance 
which  General  Walker  does  not  appear,  even  yet,  to  realize. 

Let  me  refer  those  who  may  wish  to  verify  the  accuracy 
of  the  figures  I  am  about  to  quote  to  Table  LXIII,  pp.  650-657, 
Compendium  of  the  Tenth  Census,  Part  I.  This  table  gives 
the  total  number  of  farms  for  1880,  1870, 1860  and  1850,  the 
number  of  farms  in  eight  specified  classes  for  1880,  1870  and 
1860 ;  the  farm  acreage  and  the  average  size  of  farms  for  four 
censuses.  We  are  told  in  a  note  that "  it  will  be  noticed  "  that 
the  number  of  farms  given  in  the  specified  classes  for  1860 
fail  to  agree  with  the  total  number  given,  and  that  "  these 
discrepancies  appear  without  explanation  in  the  Census  of 
1860."  This  is  well  calculated  to  impress  one  who  casually 
turns  over  the  pages  of  the  Compendium  with  the  vigilant 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      337 

care  that  has  been  exercised,  but  it  becomes  rather  amusing 
when  read  in  the  light  of  the  far  more  striking  discrep- 
ancies which  appear  without  explanation  in  the  Census  of 
1880. 

What  first  struck  me  in  glancing  over  this  table,  and 
what  is  so  obvious  that  I  cannot  understand  how,  from 
Census  Superintendent  to  lowest  clerk,  any  one  could  have 
transcribed,  or  even  glanced  over — not  to  say  examined — 
these  figures  without  being  struck  by  it,  is  that  in  the  face 
of  the  fact  that  we  are  told  that  between  1870  and  1880  the 
average  size  of  farms  has  been  reduced,  the  same  table 
shows  in  its  very  first  lines  that  the  great  increase  in  the 
number  of  farms  between  1870  and  1880  has  all  been  in  the 
four  classes  of  largest  areas,  and  that  the  larger  the  area  the 
greater  the  increase;  while  the  number  of  farms  in  the  four 
classes  of  smaller  area  have  actually  diminished,  and  the 
smaller  the  class  area  the  greater  the  diminution!  To 
recur  to  our  simile,  it  is  not  only  that  more  weights  have 
been  placed  on  one  end  of  the  lever,  but  they  have  been 
pushed  out  further  from  the  center.  On  the  other  arm  the 
weights  have  not  only  been  diminished,  but  they  have 
been  drawn  in  closer  to  the  center.  Yet  we  are  told  that 
the  lever  has  tipped  toward  the  end  that  has  been  light- 
ened ! 

This  is  the  fact  to  which  I  called  attention  in  the  fifth 
paper  of  this  series  as  showing  the  inaccuracy  of  the  asser- 
tion that  the  average  size  of  farms  had  decreased  in  the 
United  States  during  the  last  decade.  So  conclusive  is  it, 
and  so  obvious  is  it,  that  I  am  forced  to  suppose  that  the 
Superintendent  of  the  Tenth  Census  has  never  even  glanced 
over  the  totals  of  his  own  report.  For,  although  the  num- 
ber of  farms  in  1880  and  1870  are  merely  placed  in  parallel 
columns  in  the  Census  Report,  without  subtraction,  yet  such 
differences  as  4,352  farms  under  three  acres  in  1880,  and 
6,875  in  1870,  and  of  28,578  farms  over  1,000  acres  in  1880 
against  3,720  in  1870,  are  glaring  enough  to  strike  the  eye 
of  any  one  who  has  been  told  that  the  average  size  of  farms 
has  diminished,  and  to  put  him  upon  inquiry. 


338  APPENDIX. 

Ill  order  to  show  the  striking  results  of  a  comparison  of 
the  number  of  farms  in  the  eight  specified  classes,  in  1880 
and  1870,  as  reported  by  the  Census  Bureau,  I  have  taken 
the  trouble  to  do  what  the  Census  Bureau  has  not  done,  and 
figure  out  the  differences. 

Changes  during  decade  ending  1880  in  the  number  of  farms  in  the 

EIGHT  specified  CLASSES,  AS  REPORTED  BY  CENSUS  BUREAU. 

Class.                                                     Decrease  in  Ratio  of  De- 
Number,  crease. 

I.— Under  3  acres 2,523  37  per  cent. 

II.— 3  to    10      "     37,132  21     "      " 

III.— 10  to  20      "     39,858  14      "      " 

IV.— 20  to  50      "     66,140  8     "      " 

Increase  in  Ratio  of  In- 

Number.  crease. 

v.— 50   to    100  acres 278,689  37  per  cent. 

VI.— 100  to     500    "      1,130,929  200      "      " 

VII.— 500  to  1,000    "      60,099  379      "      " 

VIIL— Over      "       "      24,858  668     "      " 

This  steady  progression  from  a  decrease  of  thirty-seven 
per  cent  in  farms  under  three  acres  up  to  an  increase  of  668 
per  cent  in  farms  over  1,000  acres  is  conclusive  proof  that 
the  average  size  of  farms  could  not  have  decreased  from  153 
to  134  acres.  And  the  figures  of  numerical  decrease  and 
increase  are  at  the  same  time  a  disproof  of  General  Walker 
upon  the  ground  he  has  chosen.  ''  Now,  in  fact,"  he  says, 
"there  has  been  a  greater  increase,  on  the  whole,  in  the 
number  of  farms  below  153  acres  than  in  the  number  above 
153  acres,  and  consequently  the  average  size  has  been 
reduced."  In  fact,  there  has  been  nothing  of  the  kind. 
The  very  reverse  of  this  is  true. 

The  pivotal  point,  of  153  acres,  falls  in  Class  YI,  which 
includes  farms  between  100  and  500  acres.  There  is  no  way  of 
deciding  with  certainty  how  many  of  these  farms  are  be- 
tween 100  and  153  acres,  and  how  many  between  153  and 
500  acres ;  but  inasmuch  as,  in  the  absence  of  special  reasons 
to  the  contrary,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  average  of 
the  class  must  largely  exceed  153  acres  (which  is  very  much 
nearer  the  class  minimum  than  the  class  maximum),  and 
therefore  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  the  entire  class  must  count 
22 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      339 

on  the  side  of  increase,  we  should  reach  substantial  accu- 
racy in  setting  down  the  whole  increase  in  this  class  as 
over  153  acres.    This  would  give : 

Increase  in  number  of  farms  above  153  acres 1,215,886 

Net  increase  in  farms  below  153  acres 133,036 

Excess  in  increase  of  number  of  farms  above  153  acres 1,082,850 

This  would  be  substantially  accurate ;  but  if  a  greater 
formal  exactness  is  required,  let  us  try  to  decide,  as  best  we 
may,  what  part  of  the  farms  of  between  100  and  500  acres 
should  be  counted  as  under  153  acres. 

Whoever  knows  anything  of  the  United  States  land 
system,  and  the  parceling  of  land  in  our  newer  States  and 
Territories  where  the  greater  part  of  this  increase  in  the 
number  of  farms  has  taken  place,  knows  that  the  farms 
between  100  and  160  acres  must  be  comparatively  few.  The 
reason  of  this  is,  that  the  Government  surveys  divide  the 
land  into  sections  and  fractions  of  a  section,  the  practical  unit 
being  the  quarter-section  of  160  acres,  which  is  the  amount 
open  to  pre-emption  and  homestead  entry.  The  land  grant 
railroad  companies  sell  their  land  in  the  same  way  by  the 
Government  surveys ;  and,  in  fact,  nearly  all  the  transfers  of 
farms  in  our  new  States,  long  after  the  land  has  passed  into 
private  hands,  is  by  fractions  of  a  section,  the  quarter-sec- 
tion of  160  acres  being  almost  universally  regarded  as  the 
unit.  When  the  quarter-section  is  divided,  it  is  generally 
divided  into  the  eighth,  or,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  the 
half-quarter  section,  which  falls  into  the  class  below  the 
one  we  are  considering.  There  can  be  no  doubt  whatever 
that  the  great  majority  of  the  newer  farms  of  the  class 
between  100  and  500  acres  consist  of  quarter-sections,  two- 
quarter  sections,  and  three-quarter  sections.  Considering 
all  this,  it  is  certain  that  we  shall  be  making  a  most  liberal 
allowance  for  the  farms  between  100  and  153  acres  if  we 
estimate  the  farms  above  153  acres  at  1,000,000,  and  those 
below  at  the  odd  number  of  130,929.    This  would  give : 

Increase  in  farms  above  153  acres 1,084,957 

Net  increase  in  farms  below  153  acres 263,965 

Excess  in  increase  of  farms  above  153  acres 820,992 


340  APPENDIX. 

I  have  disposed  of  General  Walker's  principle  and  of  his 
fact,  and  have  sustained  my  own  allegation  of  the  inaccu- 
racy of  the  Census  Report.  I  will  now  go  further,  and  prove 
in  another  way  the  glaring  discrepancies  of  the  Census 
Report,  and  the  grossness  of  the  assumption  that  it  shows  a 
reduction  in  the  average  size  of  farms.  Subtracting  the 
totals  given  for  1870  from  those  given  for  1880,  we  find  the 
increase  in  acreage  and  number  of  farms  as  follows : 

Total  number 

of  farms.  Total  acreage. 

1880  4,008,907  536,081,835 

1870 2,659,985  407,735,041 

Increase  in  decade 1,348,922  128,346,794 

The  average  size  of  farms  in  1880,  given  at  134  acres,  has 
been  obtained  by  dividing  the  total  acreage  by  the  given 
total  number  of  farms.  The  division  is  correct,  but  exami- 
nation shows  that  there  is  an  error  either  in  the  dividend 
or  in  the  divisor,  which  makes  the  quotient  less  than  it 
ought  to  be.  Either  the  number  of  farms  is  too  high,  or 
the  acreage  too  low.    Let  me  prove  this  beyond  question. 

The  net  increase  in  the  number  of  farms  in  the  eight 
specified  classes,  as  I  have  given  it,  corresponds  with  the  total 
increase  obtained  by  subtracting  from  the  total  number  of 
farms  given  for  1880  the  total  given  for  1870.  But  no  esti- 
mate can  make  the  increase  in  area  correspond. 

To  show  that  it  is  impossible  on  any  supposition  to  make 
the  increased  acreage  of  the  specified  classes  as  low  as  the 
increased  acreage  according  to  the  census  totals,  we  will, 
where  there  has  been  decrease  in  the  number  of  farms,  con- 
sider these  farms  to  have  been  of  the  very  largest  size 
embraced  in  the  class.  Where  the  number  of  farms  has  in- 
creased we  will  consider  these  farms  as  having  been  of  the 
very  smallest  size  embraced  in  the  class. 

Thus  we  have — 

Class.  Decrease. 

I.— Under  3  acres.  2,523,  at   3  acres 7,569 

II.— 3    to  10        "  37,132,  at  10     "     371,320 

HI.— 10  to  20        "  39,858,  at  20     "     797,160 

IV.-20  to  50        "  66,140,at50     "     3,307,000 

Total  decrease  in  area 4,483,049 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      341 


Class.  Increase. 

v.— 50    to  100     acres.    278,689,  at      50  acres , 13,934,450 

VI.— 100  to  500         "      1,130,929,  at     100      "     113,092,900 

VII.— 500  to  1,000      "  60,099,  at     500      "     30,049.500 

VIII.— Over  1,000      "  24,858,  at  1,000      "     24,858,000 

Total  increase  in  area 181,934,850 

Subtract  decrease 4,483,049 

Net  increase  in  farm  acreage 177,451,801 

Thus  this  lowest  possible  estimate  of  increased  farm  area 
exceeds  the  increase  of  128,346,794,  according  to  the  census 
totals,  by  no  less  than  49,105,007  acres.  According  to  the 
census  totals  the  average  area  of  the  1,348,922  new  farms 
was  only  95.1  acres.  According  to  this  lowest  possible 
estimate  of  the  areas  assigned  to  these  new  farms  in  the 
table  of  specified  classes,  the  average  is  131,6.  And,  adding 
this  very  lowest  possible  estimate  of  increased  average  to 
that  given  for  1870,  the  total  farm  acreage  of  the  United 
States  in  1880  was  585,186,842  acres,  instead  of  536,081,835 
acres,  as  represented  by  the  Census  Bureau,  giving  an  aver- 
age of  145.9  acres,  instead  of  134  acres,  as  reported. 

Of  course,  such  an  estimate  is  preposterous,  but  it  shows 
indisputably  the  glaring  incorrectness  of  the  Census  Report. 

To  obtain  from  the  table  of  specified  classes  an  estimate 
of  the  true  increase  of  farm  acreage  in  the  United  States 
during  the  last  decade,  our  only  way  is  to  ascertain  from 
the  census  of  1870,  also  made  under  General  Walker's  super- 
intendence, the  average  of  class  areas  which  would  give  the 
total  for  that  year,  and  take  them  for  our  calculation. 

To  make  the  acreage  of  the  specified  classes  for  1870 
agree  with  the  total  acreage  given,  we  must  make  some 
such  estimate  as  the  following  : 

ACREAGE   BY   SPECIFIED   CLASSES   FOR    1870. 

Class.                                                            Average  Number  of  Total  acres. 

acreage.  farms. 

I.— Under  3  acres 214  6,875  17,187 

II.— 3  to  10          "      8K  172,021  1,505,183 

III.-10to20        "        o...        18  294,607  5,302,926 

IV.— 20  to  50        "      44  847,614  37,295,016 

v.— 50  to  100       "      90  754,221  67,879,890 

VI.— 100  to  500    "      400  565,054  226,021,600 

VII.— 500  to  1,000 "      900  15,873  14,285,700 

VIII.— Over  1,000  "      14,900  3,720  55,428,000 

2,659,985  407,735,502 


842  APPENDIX. 

This  is  about  as  close  as  I  can  figure  with  any  regard  to 
proportion,  and  it  comes  so  close  to  407,735,041,  the  acreage 
given  for  1870,  that  the  difference  would  not  perceptibly 
affect  any  average. 

Now,  taking  these  averages  of  1870  as  a  basis  for  calcu- 
lating the  true  farm  acreage  in  1880,  we  have : 

ACREAGE   BY   SPECIFIED   CLASSES   FOE   1880. 

Class.  Acres.  ^J™i'[^-^  Acreage. 

I.— Under  3  acres 214  4,352  10,880 

II.— 3  to  10         "     8X  134,889  1,180.278 

III.— 10  to  20        "     18  254,749  4,o85,482 

IV.— 20to50        "     44  781,474  34,384,856 

v.— 50  to  100      "     90  1,032,910  92.961,900 

VI.— 100  to  500    "     400  1,695,983  678;393,200 

VII.— 500  to  1,000 "       900  75,972  68,374,800 

VIII.— Over  1,000  "     14,900  28,578  425,812,200 

Totals 4,008,907       1,305,703,596 

This  would  make  the  average  size  of  farms  in  the  United 
States  325j  acres,  instead  of  134  acres  as  reported  by  the  Cen- 
sus Bureau,  an  increase  of  172^  acres,  instead  of  a  decrease 
of  19  acres  as  reported. 

I  do  not,  of  course,  say  that  this  estimate  is  correct.  I 
can  only  say  that  it  is  the  best  that  can  be  made  from  the 
census  reports.  These  reports  show  such  a  lack  of  intel- 
ligent superintendence  and  editing,  that  I  doubt  their 
reliability  for  any  purpose.  The  only  thing  absolutely  cer- 
tain is,  that  the  conclusions  of  the  Census  Bureau  are  not 
correct. 

And  further  than  the  gross  discrepancies  I  have  shown, 
these  returns  of  farms  and  farm  areas  give  no  idea  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  ownership  of  land  is  concentrating  in 
the  United  States.  It  is  not  merely  that  in  many  cases  the 
same  person  is  the  owner  of  separate  farms,  but  it  is  evi- 
dent from  the  returns  that  stock  farms,  cattle  ranches,  and 
the  large  tracts  held  by  absentees,  have  not  been  included. 
This  may  be  seen  by  the  fact  that  the  returns  of  farms  over 
1,000  acres  number  only  14  for  Wyoming,  43  for  New  Mex- 
ico, 20  for  Montana,  8  for  Idaho,  74  for  Dakota,  and  so  on. 

I  have  gone  into  this  subject  at  such  length  because  the 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON"  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.   343 

authority  of  the  census  has  been  so  generally  invoked  as 
conclusive  proof  that  the  ownership  of  land  is  not  con- 
centrating in  the  United  States.  The  truth  is,  that  it  is 
concentrating  so  rapidly  that,  should  present  tendencies 
continue,  it  will  not  be  many  decades  before  we  shall  be  a 
nation  of  landlords  and  tenants. 

SUPERINTENDENT    WALKEr's    FURTHER    EXPLANATION. 

[From  Frank  Leslie' s  Illustrated  Newspaper,  June  16,  1883.] 
To  the  Editor  of  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper  : 

Mr.  George's  attack  upon  the  Census  Statistics  of  the 
number  and  size  of  farms,  in  your  issue  of  June  9,  affords 
a  capital  example  of  that  writer's  cleverness  in  imposing 
upon  the  careless  reader.  Indeed,  although  somewhat 
familiar  with  the  subject-matter,  I  wasn't  sure  myself,  until 
I  had  gone  through  the  article  more  than  once,  that  there 
might  not  be  something  in  it,  so  portentous  was  the  mar- 
shahng  of  figures,  so  loud  and  strenuous  the  assertion  that 
the  census  was  wrong  in  this  and  inconsistent  in  that;  so 
artfully  were  all  the  resources  of  controversy  used  to  pro- 
duce the  impression  Mr.  George  desired.  And  yet  there  is 
absolutely  nothing  in  it  which  cannot  be  readily  and  com- 
pletely disproved.  It  is,  from  beginning  to  end,  an  utter 
sham. 

Suppose  a  township  of  25  square  miles  to  have  been 
divided,  in  1870,  into  64  farms  of  250  acres  each.  These 
would  have  been  reported,  according  to  the  classification 
in  use  at  each  census  from  1850  to  the  present  time,  as 
farms  of  over  100  and  under  500  acres ;  aggregate  land  in 
farms,  16,000  acres.  Now,  suppose  precisely  the  same  ter- 
ritory to  have  been  divided  in  1880  into  farms  of  125  acres 
each!  The  official  record  would  then  read,  128  farms  of 
over  100  and  under  500  acres ;  aggregate  land  in  farms, 
16,000  acres.  Ah,  exclaims  the  critic,  observe  this  mon- 
strous blunder!  Here  is  an  increase  of  64  farms  in  this 
class,  and  yet  no  increase  whatever  of  acreage!  Let  us,  he 
continues,  concede,  in  the  extreme  spirit  of  fairness,  that 
these  farms  were  all  of  the  very  smallest  size  contained  in 
this  class,  viz:  100  acres  each,  we  still  ought  to  have,  at  the 
least,  an  increase  of  6,400  acres  over  the  official  return, 
which  is  thus  shown  on  the  face  of  it  to  be  false. 

This  is  Mr.  George's  reasoning,  precisely.  To  omit  minor 
classes,  let  us  take  the  greatest  class  of  all,  that  of  farms 


344  APPENDIX. 

between  100  and  500  acres,  the  increase  in  the  number  of 
farms  of  this  class  being  no  less  than  1,130,929,  against 
217,993  only  of  all  the  other  classes  combined.  Mr,  George 
assumes  that  these  1,130,929  farms  represent  a  pure  net 
addition  to  the  acreage  of  inclosed  land.  Having  made 
such  an  utterly  gratuitous,  utterly  unfounded,  utterly  dis- 
honest assumption,  Mr.  George,  with  that  inimitable  show 
of  candor  which  always  characterizes  him  after  a  logical 
larceny  of  this  sort,  very  graciously  gives  the  Census  Office 
the  benefit  of  his  concession  that  he  will  only  exact  100 
acres  for  each  of  these  1,130,929  farms:  and  having  pro- 
ceeded to  deal  this  way  with  all  the  other  classes,  he  brings 
the  Census  Office  out  a  debtor  in  the  sum  of  49,105,007 
acres.  Perhaps,  with  that  same  remarkable  candor,  he 
would  consent  to  strike  off  105,007  acres  and  call  it  only 
49,000,000. 

Such  is  the  wretched  stuff  which  Mr.  George  imposes 
on  his  readers  as  a  serious  statistical  argument.  That  the 
land  of  all  the  older  States  is  in  process  of  subdivision, 
every  one  above  the  grade  of  a  plantation  hand,  who  has 
lived  three  years  east  of  the  Rocky  INIountains,  knows  per- 
fectly well.  In  the  main,  the  increase  of  farms  in  these 
States  is  by  the  partition  of  land  previously  inclosed.  Thus, 
Connecticut  showed  2,364,416  acres  in  25,508  farms  in  1870, 
and  2,453,541  acres  in  30,598  farms  in  1880,  an  increase  of 
nearly  twenty  per  cent  in  farms,  and  of  but  five  per  cent 
in  acreage.  New  York  showed  22,190,810  acres  in  216,253 
farms  in  1870,  and  23,780,754  acres  in  241,058  farms  in  1880. 
Georgia,  to  take  a  State  from  another  section,  showed 
23,647,941  acres  in  69,956  farms  in  1870,  and  26,043,282  acres 
in  138,626  farms  in  1880 ;  a  gain  of  about  ten  per  cent  in 
acreage,  and  of  almost  100  per  cent  in  farms.  This  tre- 
mendous increase  of  farms  in  Georgia  is  due  to  the  continu- 
ous subdivision  of  the  old  plantations  in  order  to  furnish 
small  farms  for  the  late  slaves  and  the  ''poor  whites"  of 
that  region.  The  same  cause  is  operating,  with  great  force, 
all  over  the  South,  and  this  it  is  which  has  brought  about 
that  reduction  of  the  average  size  of  farms  in  the  United 
States  from  153  acres  in  1870  to  134  acres  in  1880,  which 
arouses  such  prodigious  wrath  on  the  part  of  Mr.  George, 
who,  having  started  out  on  a  crusade  against  landed  prop- 
erty with  the  cry  that  the  country  is  going  to  the  dogs 
through  the  aggregation  of  great  estates  —  latifandia,  as  he 
magnificently  calls  it,  to  the  confusion,  there  is  reason  to 
fear,  of  most  of  his  disciples — is  brought  violently  and 
injuriously  up  against  hard  facts,  such  as  those  just  cited. 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.       845 

The  following  table  shows  the  increase  of  the  number  of 
farms  in  the  chief  cotton-planting  States : 

1880.  .     1870. 

Alabama 135,864  67,382 

Arkansas 94,433  49,424 

Georgia 138,626  69,9.=^6 

Louisiana 48,292  28,481 

Mississippi 101,772  68,023 

North  Carolina 157,609  93,565 

South  Carolina 93,864  51,889 

Tennessee 165,650  118,141 

Texas 174,184  61,125 

Such,  then,  is  Mr.  George's  main  argument  against  the 
Census  figures.  "  Let  me,"  he  says,  "  prove  this  beyond 
question."  We  may,  therefore,  understand  this  to  be  Mr. 
George's  idea  of  proving  a  proposition  beyond  question. 
And,  in  truth,  it  is  very  much  the  way  he  has  taken  to 
prove  all  the  propositions  I  have  read  from  his  pen.  To 
make  any  assumption  whatever  that  suits  his  purpose,  to 
reason  therefrom  most  logically  and  felicitously,  and  to 
apply  thereto,  when  required,  arithmetical  computations  of 
the  most  minute  accuracy,  is  the  favorite  method  of  this 
apostle  of  a  new  political  economy  and  a  regenerated 
humanity. 

In  the  case  under  consideration,  he  assumes  that  new 
farms  always  represent  new  landc,  a  most  gratuitous  as- 
sumption, contrary  to  the  known  facts  of  the  situation,  and 
then  proceeds,  by  a  faultless  series  of  additions  and  multi- 
plications, to  bring  the  Census  Office  in  as  debtor  in  the 
amount  of  49,000,000  acres  lost  to  the  nation  through  its 
carelessness. 

Again,  Mr.  George's  assumption  that  the  farms  between 
100  and  500  acres  must  be  preponderatingly  above  153  acres, 
inasmuch  as  the  Government  sells  land  in  160-acre  lots, 
"  quarter-sections,"  as  they  are  called,  may  be  met  by  the 
assertion  that  five-sixths  of  the  present  farms  of  the  United 
States  were  either  not  granted  originally  on  the  quarter-sec- 
tion plan  (as  in  the  eastern  states),  or  else  have  been  long 
enough  in  private  hands  to  allow,  as  Americans  buy  and 
sell,  abundant  scope  for  changes  of  area,  in  the  way  of  parti- 
tion, consolidation,  etc. 

The  question  at  issue  between  Mr.  George  and  the  Census" 
Office  really  turns  upon  the  average  size  of  the  farms  be- 
tween 100  and  500  acres.  Mr.  George  estimates  that  aver- 
age at  400  acres  I    The  reasonableness  or  unreasonableness 


346  Appendix. 


of  this  will  best  be  made  to  appear  by  presenting  the  num- 
ber of  farms  in  the  classes  above  and  below  : 

20  to   50  acres 781,474 

50  to  100  acres 1,032,910 

100  to     500  acres 1,695,983 

500  to  1,000  acres 75,972 

Any  one  who  can  look  at  these  figures  and  not  see,  at  a 
glance,  that  the  probabilities  are  overwhelmingly  in  favor  of 
the  supposition  that  the  great  body  of  the  farms  of  the  third 
class,  in  the  above  table,  are  nearer,  much  nearer,  very 
much  nearer,  to  the  lower  than  to  the  upper  limit,  is  to  be 
pitied  for  his  defective  eyesight,  and  his  defective  mind- 
sight.  If  Mr.  George  cannot  see  that,  there  is  reason  to  fear 
that  a  diagram  would  not  help  him.  Who  can  believe  it 
possible  that,  while  the  farms  of  ('lass  Four  are  only  1  in  22 
of  the  farms  in  Class  Three,  the  farms  of  the  latter  class  lie  so 
close  up  to  the  limit  of  the  fourth  class  as  to  average  400 
acres  each,  or  for  that  matter,  300  acres,  or  even  250  acres. 

It  is  certainly  to  be  regretted,  since  this  controversy 
has  arisen,  that  a  new  class,  100  to  150,  or  100  to  200  acres, 
was  not  introduced.  But  the  classification  taken  for  this 
purpose  is  that  which  has  always  heretofore  been  employed, 
alike  in  1850,  in  1860  and  1870;  while,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
no  one  has  ever  before  complained  of  its  indeficiency  or 
suggested  to  the  Census  Office  the  subdivision  of  this  class. 

Mr.  George  is  uudoubtedly  right  in  his  captious  correc- 
tion of  my  phraseology  in  speaking  of  the  effect  produced 
by  an  increase  in  the  number  of  farms,  above  or  below  the 
line,  153  acres,  upon  the  average  size  of  all  farms  in  compari- 
son of  1870  with  1880.  I  think  no  one  would  have  failed  to 
understand  me  who  desired  to  do  so,  and  what  I  had  in 
mind  was  perfectly  just;  yet,  in  a  controversy  with  a  gentle- 
man so  much  more  particular  about  phraseology  than  about 
facts,  I  should  have  done  well  to  state  my  meaning  more 
explicitly.  Respectfully, 

Boston,  June  10,  1883.  Francis  A.  Walker. 


FURTHER    ANALYSIS    OF   THE    CENSUS   REPORT. 

[From  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper,  June  30, 1883.] 

In  his  reply  to  my  exhibition  of  the  utter  inconsistency 

between  the  census  figures  and  census  conclusions  as  to  the 

size  of  farms,  Professor  Walker,  instead  of  furnishing  the 

diagrams  with  which  he,  in  the   first   place,  proposed  to 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      347 

enlighten  my  ignorance,  resorts  to  something  more  resem- 
bhng  diatribes.    To  sach  controversy  I  cannot  descend. 

Professor  Walker  complains  that  I  estimate  the  average 
size  of  farms  in  the  class  between  100  and  500  acres  at  400 
acres,  and  devotes  much  space  to  showing  that  this  estimate 
is  too  great.  But  this  estimate  is  not  mine.  Had  I  been  mak- 
ing a  guess,  without  reference  to  the  Census  Report,  I  should 
certainly  not  have  put  the  average  of  this  class  at  above  250 
acres.  But  at  any  such  average  it  is  impossible  to  make  the 
aggregate  acreage  of  the  specified  classes  for  1870  correspond 
with  the  total  acreage  given.  As  I  showed  in  detail,  to 
make  the  acreage  of  these  classes  agree  with  the  total  acre- 
age given,  such  averages  as  90  acres  for  the  class  between  50 
and  100  acres,  400  acres  for  the  class  between  100  and  500; 
900  acres  for  the  class  between  500  and  1,000  acres,  and  14,- 
900  for  farms  over  1,000  acres  must  be  assumed.  These 
averages  seem  to  me  preposterous ;  but  I  am  not  responsible 
for  them.  Professor  Francis  A.  Walker,  superintendent  of 
the  Tenth  Census,  must  settle  this  matter  with  Professor 
Francis  A.  Walker,  superintendent  of  the  Ninth  Census. 

And  to  clinch  what  I  have  already  said  as  to  the  size  of 
farms  in  Class  IV,  I  challenge  Professor  Walker  to  give  to 
the  public  any  computation  of  acreage  by  specified  classes 
by  which,  putting  the  average  of  Class  IV  at  153  acres,  and 
having  any  regard  whatever  for  proportion  in  the  other 
classes,  he  can  make  the  total  acreage  correspond  with  that 
given  in  the  Census  Report. 

As  for  Professor  Walker's  efibrt  to  prove  that  increase  in 
the  number  of  farms  does  not  necessarily  involve  increase 
in  total  area,  it  would  be  as  pertinent  for  him  to  attempt  to 
prove  that  in  changing  a  dollar  into  ten  dimes  one  gets  no 
more  money,  or  that  a  big  piece  of  cloth  may  be  cut  into 
small  pieces  without  increase  in  the  amount  of  cloth.  This 
I  have  never  heard  denied,  unless  by  Professor  Walker 
himself,  who,  in  his  previous  letter,  asserted  that  a  greater 
increase  in  the  number  of  farms  below  than  above  a  cer- 
tain point  necessarily  showed  a  decrease  of  average  area. 
The  absurdity  of  this — a  principle  which  he  offered   to 


348  Appendix. 

illustrate  with  diagrams  —  I  previously  pointed  out,  and  he 
now  admits,  but  in  a  style  which  reminds  me  of  a  dispute  I 
once  heard  between  two  colored  citizens.  One,  who  gloried 
in  the  title  of  Professor  Johnson,  was  boasting  that  he  could 
polish  twelve  dozen  pairs  of  boots  in  half  an  hour.  A  fel- 
low bootblack  disputed  this,  and  pressed  him  with  a  bet. 
Driven  into  a  corner.  Professor  Johnson,  with  much  indig- 
nation, declared  that  when  he  said  twelve  dozen  pairs  of 
boots  he  meant  six  pairs  of  shoes,  and  any  "fool  nigger" 
ought  to  know  what  he  meant.  So,  Professor  Walker, 
driven  to  admit  the  absurdity  of  his  statement  of  principle, 
speaks  of  my  captious  c'orrection  of  his  phraseology,  and 
declares  that  no  one  would  have  failed  to  understand  him 
who  desired  to  do  so.  This  is  a  rather  unbecoming  descent 
from  the  altitude  of  an  offer  of  diagrams !  A  frank  admis- 
sion that  he  had  been  betrayed  by  carelessness  would  have 
inspired  more  respect. 

But  it  is  to  be  feared  that  such  carelessness  is  a  habit 
with  Professor  Walker.  This  letter  shows  as  curious  con- 
fusion of  thought  as  his  first,  and,  with  seemingly  utter 
unconsciousness  of  the  fallacy,  he  essays  with  what  the 
logicians  call  an  ignoratio  elenchi,  to  break  the  force  of  my 
marshaling  of  census  figures.  To  prove  the  absolute  incon- 
sistency of  the  census,  I  showed  that  the  lowest  possible 
estimate  of  increased  acreage  by  specified  classes  gives  an 
aggregate  acreage  of  49,105,107  acres  in  excess  of  the  census 
total.  To  this  conclusive  proof  of  gross  inaccuracy  Pro- 
fessor Walker  replies  by  supposing  a  township  of  twenty- 
five  square  miles.  [It  may  be  worth  while  to  remark  that 
a  United  States  township  is  thirty-six,  not  twenty-five, 
square  miles.]  He  supposes  this  township  to  have  been 
divided  in  1870  into  64  farms  of  250  acres  each,  which 
would  be  returned  by  the  census  in  the  class  between  100 
and  500  acres.  In  1880  the  same  township  is  divided  into 
128  farms  of  125  acres  each.  But  the  acreage  of  64  addi- 
tional farms  at  the  lowest  class  limit  of  100  acres,  added  to 
the  previous  total  acreage,  would  give  6,400  more  acres  than 
the  township  contains ;  which  proves,  according  to  Professor 


THE  CENSUS  EEPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.       349 

Walker,  that,  in  assuming  that  the  net  increase  of  acreage 
of  specified  classes  must  represent  an  addition  to  that  acre- 
age, I  have  made  "an  utterly  gratuitous,  utterly  unfounded, 
utterly  dishonest  assumption." 

In  fact,  however.  Professor  Walker's  unfortunate  exam- 
ple proves  nothing  in  point,  unless  it  be  the  truth  of  the  old 

rhyme : 

"  If  ij'.-i  and  cms  were  pots  and  pans, 
There'd  be  few  blundering  tinkers." 

What  Professor  Walker  omits  in  his  example  —  as,  of 
course,  he  will  see  when  his  attention  is  called  to  it  —  is 
the  essence  of  the  matter,  the  division  into  classes.  By 
supposing  the  farms  in  his  township  to  be  all  within  one 
class.  Professor  Walker  ignores  this  essential  element.  The 
case  he  presents  is  not  analogous  to  the  case  presented  by 
the  census,  but  analogous  to  the  case  which  would  be  pre- 
sented by  the  census  were  no  returns  by  classes  given.  If 
the  census  reports  merely  gave  us  the  total  acreage  and  total 
number  of  farms,  we  could  go  no  further  in  verifying  \\  nat  it 
told  us  as  to  increase  or  decrease  of  average  than  by  testing 
the  division.  But  the  census  gives  us  more  than  this. 
Besides  total  acreage  and  total  number,  it  gives  us  the 
number  of  farms  in  eight  specified  classes  as  to  area. 

To  make  Professor  Walker's  supposed  township  analo- 
gous to  the  case  in  point,  we  must  suppose  its  farms  to 
vary  in  size  from  under  three  acres  to  over  1,000  acres, 
and  that  we  are  given  for  each  decade,  not  merely  the 
total  number  of  farms  and  total  area,  but  also  the  number 
in  eight  classes  of  specified  areas.  This  given,  in  case  the 
average  size  of  the  farms  in  the  township  had  decreased 
from  250  acres  to  125  acres,  should  we  not  expect  the  class 
returns  to  show  an  increase  in  the  number  of  farms  in  the 
classes  of  smaller  acreage,  and  a  decrease  in  the  classes  of 
larger  acreage  ?  And  if  they  were  to  show  just  the  reverse 
of  this, — a  decrease  in  the  number  of  smaller  farms  and  an 
increase  in  the  number  of  larger  farms, —  should  we  not  say 
that  they  were  inconsistent  with  the  reduction  of  average? 
This  inconsistency  is  just  what  the  Census  Report  shows. 


350  APPENDIX. 

Professor  Walker  asserts  that  I  have  made  a  gratuitous 
assumption,  contrary  to  the  known  facts  of  the  case,  in  as- 
suming that  additional  farms  represent  additional  land.  If 
he  will  show  me,  with  or  without  diagrams,  any  other  basis 
of  computation,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  him.  I  do  not  know 
what  arithmetic  they  may  use  in  the  Boston  Technical 
School,  but  I  will  take  an  example  after  the  manner  of 
the  old  arithmetics : 

"A  boy's  trousers  contain  two  yards  of  cloth  ;  his  father's, 
three  yards.  Last  year  they  had  each  two  pairs  of  trou- 
sers; this  year  they  have  each  three  pairs.  How  much 
more  cloth  have  they  in  their  trousers  this  year  than  last?  " 

Any  one  —  outside,  perhaps,  the  Census  Bureau  or  Tech- 
nical School  of  Boston  —  would  say:  "One  more  pair  of 
trousers  for  the  boy,  two  yards ;  one  more  for  the  father, 
three  yards.    Answer — five  yards." 

Supposing  somebody  should  reply  :  "  You  have  made  in 
your  calculation  an  utterly  gratuitous,  utterly  unfounded, 
utterly  dishonest  assumption,  contrary  to  all  the  known 
facts  of  the  case.  You  have  assumed  the  boy's  new  trousers 
to  have  been  made  from  new  cloth,  whereas  they  were  cut 
down  from  his  father's  old  ones ! " 

Any  little  child  would  smile,  and  answer :  "That  makes 
no  difference.  Whether  the  father's  trousers  have  been  cut 
down  for  the  boy,  or  the  boy's  trousers  have  been  pieced 
out  for  the  father,  the  boy  has  one' more  pair  of  trousers 
with  two  yards  in  them,  and  the  father  one  more  pair  of 
trousers  with  three  yards  in  them,  and  together  they  have 
five  yards  more  cloth  in  their  trousers." 

And  so,  though  it  is  true  that  in  many  cases  farms  of 
one  class  are  formed  from  previously  existing  farms  of 
another  class,  the  only  method  of  computing  increase  of 
area  is  by  taking  the  increased  number  at  the  given  area. 
An  acre  of  land  may  form  part  of  a  farm  of  one  class  at 
one  time,  and  of  a  farm  of  another  class  at  another  time. 
But  we  cannot  suppose  it  to  be  in  two  farms  at  the  same 
time. 

Without  meeting  the  facts  and  figures  which  I  gave 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.      351 

from  the  Census  Keport  in  disproof  of  the  assertion  that 
the  average  size  of  farms  had  been  reduced  in  the  last 
decade,  Professor  Walker  reiterates  that  assertion.  He 
says: 

"That  the  land  of  all  the  older  States  is  in  process  of 
subdivision,  every  one  above  the  grade  of  a  jilantation  hand, 
who  has  lived  three  years  east  of  the  Kocky  Mountains, 
knows  perfectly  well.  In  the  main,  the  increase  of  farms  in 
these  States  is  by  the  partition  of  land  previously  inclosed. 
Thus,  Connecticut  showed  2,364,416  acres  in  25,508  farms  in 
1870,  and  2,453,541  acres  in  30,598  farms  in  1880  — an  increase 
of  nearly  twenty  per  cent  in  farms,  and  of  but  five  percent 
in  acreage.  New  York  showed  22,190,810  acres  in  216,253 
farms  in  1870,  and  23,780,754  acres  in  241,058  farms  in  1880. 
Georgia,  to  take  a  State  from  another  section,  showed 
23,647,941  acres  in  69,956  farms  in  1870,  and  26,043,282 
acres  in  138,626  farms  in  1880 — a  gain  of  about  ten  per 
cent  in  acreage,  and  of  almost  100  per  cent  in  farms.  This 
tremendous  rticrease  of  farms  in  Georgia  is  due  to  the 
continuous  subdivision  of  the  old  plantations  in  order 
to  furnish  small  farms  for  the  late  slaves  and  the  'poor 
whites'  of  that  region.  The  same  cause  is  operating, 
with  great  force,  all  over  the  South,  and  this  it  is  which  has 
brought  about  that  reduction  of  the  average  size  of  farms  in 
the  United  States  from  153  acres  m  1870  to  134  acres  in  1880, 
which  arouses  such  prodigious  wrath  on  the  part  of  Mr, 
George." 

It  is  a  very  j^leasant  theory  that  the  old  plantations  in  the 
South  are  being  subdivided  in  order  to  furnish  small  farms 
for  the  late  slaves  and  the  ''  poor  whites,"  and  it  would  be 
still  pleasanter  if  it  involved  any  presumption  that  they 
were  getting  these  small  farms  as  owners  and  not  as  rack- 
rented  tenants.  But,  unfortunately,  while  it  is  not  borne 
out  by  any  information  from  the  South  that  I  have  been 
able  to  get,  it  is  absolutely  disproved  by  the  census  returns. 
Professor  Walker  parades,  as  though  it  were  proof  of  this 
subdivision  of  plantations,  a  table  giving  the  total  number 
of  farms  in  nine  cotton-growing  States  in  1870  and  1880, 
which  shows  a  large  increase  in  the  number  of  farms; 
but  he  very  prudently  neglects  to  specify  the  classes  in 
which  this  increase  took  place.  He  could  not  have  done 
this  without  showing  to  the  eye  of  the  reader  that,  instead 


352  APPENDIX. 

of  a  continuous  subdivision  of  the  old  plantations,  the 
general  tendency  in  those  States  is  to  an  increase  in  the  size 
of  farms.  Whoever  will  glance  over  the  census  returns  by 
specified  classes  will  see  that,  whereas  there  was  in  the 
decade  ending  1870  a  striking  decrease  in  the  number  of 
large  farms,  and  a  striking  increase  in  the  number  of  small 
farms,  yet  in  the  decade  ending  1880  the  striking  increase 
is  in  the  large  farms,  and  the  striking  decrease  in  the 
small  farms.  If  old  plantations  are  being  cut  up,  then  new 
plantations  in  greater  number  are  being  formed;  for  in 
all  these  States  the  most  striking  increase  is  in  the  larger 
classes.  The  farms  having  500  and  1,000  acres,  and  over 
1,000  acres,  are  in  all  these  States  much  more  numerous  in 
1880  than  in  1870,  and  even  much  more  numerous  than  in 
1860. 

The  following  table  drawn  from  the  census  reports  shows 
the  number  of  farms  of  each  class  in  the  nine  States  re- 
ferred to  by  Professor  Walker  —  viz.  Alabama,  Arkansas, 
Georgia,  Louisiana,  Mississippi,  North  Carolina,  South  Caro- 
lina, Tennessee,  Texas —  for  the  last  three  censuses: 

NUMBER   OP   FARMS   IN   COTTON   STATES   BY   CLASSES. 

Class.  1860.  1870.  1880. 

I.— Under  3  acres No  returns.  2,053             1,308 

II.— 3  to      10      "  11,248  47,088             36,644 

III.— 10  to     20      "  37,494  101,272  111,111 

IV.— 20  to    50      "  123,977  223,444  277,112 

v.— 50  to    100     "  101,576  124,852  229,006 

VI.— 100  to  500    "  112,193  91,370  410,066 

VII.— 500  to  1,000"  11,976  6,407             37,843 

VIII.— Over  1,000"  3,557  1,500            17,394 

These  figures  show  that  the  movement  in  these  nine 
Southern  States  was  in  the  last  decade  the  reverse  of  the 
movement  in  the  previous  decade,  and  was  to  the  increase, 
not  to  the  decrease,  in  the  size  of  farms.  This  will  be  even 
more  strikingly  shown  to  the  eye  of  the  reader  by  the  fol- 
lowing table,  which  exhibits  the  percentage  of  increase  or 
decrease  in  each  class  for  the  decade  ending  1870  and  the 
d':v;ade  ending  1880: 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.        353 

PERCENTAGE  OF   CHANGE   IN    NUMBER  OF   FARMS    IN    COTTON 
STATES. 


Class. 

1870. 
Per  cent. 

1880. 

Per  cent. 

31  %  decrease 

99     "            <. 

II.— 3  to  10       '   "   

319  increase 

III.— 10  to  20        "   

170         " 

10    inprpflsp 

IV  —20  to  50         " 

80         " 

94               " 

v.— 50  to  100       "    

23 

77             " 

VI.— 100  to  500     "  

349             " 

VII.— 500  to  1  000  "   

47          " 

491             " 

l^III.— Over  1,000  "  

58 

1,060 

In  the  face  of  this  exhibit,  what  could  be  more  preposter- 
ously false  than  the  census  declaration,  reiterated  by  Super- 
intendent Walker,  that  the  average  size  of  farms  in  these 
States  decreased  in  the  last  decade,  and  decreased  almost  as 
much  as  in  the  previous  decade  !  — viz.,  32  per  cent  in  the  de- 
cade ending  1880,  and  42  percent  in  the  decade  ending  1870? 

It  is  a  work  of  supererogation  to  show  in  further  detail  the 
utter  incompatibility  of  census  figures  with  census  conclu- 
sions ;  but  inasmuch  as  Professor  Walker  calls  attention  to 
the  three  States  of  Connecticut,  New  York  and  Georgia,  let 
us  follow  him  on  the  ground  he  has  selected,  and  look 
briefly  at  the  returns  for  these  States.  We  shall  see  that 
they  too  utterly  disprove  the  census  conclusions. 

For  Connecticut  the  census  totals  give  : 

CONNECTICUT. 

Total  Number  of  Average  size 
acreage.                       farms.  of  farms. 

1870—2,364,416  25,508  93  acres. 

1880—2,453,541  30,598  80      " 

Increase 89,125  5,090  13  acres  decrease. 

Now  let  us  see  how  this  averred  reduction  in  average 
Bize  of  farms  from  93  to  80  acres  is  borne  out  by  the  returns 
of  increase  by  classes.    These  show  : 

CHANGES   IN   NUMBER   OF   FARMS   IN    CONNECTICUT,    DECADE 

ENDING   1880. 
Class.  Change  in  Number.  Change  per  cent. 

I.— Under  3  acres 37  decrease.  52  %  decrease. 

II.— 3  to  10  "  545  increase,  32       increase. 

III.— 10  to  20         "  310        "  10 

I  v.— 20  to  50        "  145  decrease.  2      decrease. 

v.— 50  to  100       "  569  increase.  8       increase. 

VI.— 100to500      "  3,725        "  64 

VII.— 500  to  1,000  "   107        "  412 

VIII.— Over  1,000    "  16       "  1,600 

Net  increase  in  farms  under  100  acres 1,242 

Increase  in  farms  over  100  acres 3,848 

23 


354 


APPENDIX. 


Could  anything  more  conclusively  disprove  the  assertion 
of  reduced  average  ? 

Take  now  New  York.    The  census  totals  give  : 

NEW    YORK. 

Total 
acreage. 
^870-22,190,810 
1880—23,780,754 

Increase. .  .1,589,944  24,805  4  acres  decrease. 

Turning  to  the  tables  of  specified  classes,  we  find  the 
increase  has  been 

CHANGES   IN   NUMBER   OF   FARMS   IN    NEW   YORK,   DECADE 
ENDING    1880. 


Namher  of 
farms. 
216,253 
241,058 

Average  size 
of  farms. 

103  acres. 
99  acres. 

Class. 

I.— Under  3  acres. 
II.— 3  to  10 
III.— 10  to  20 
IV.— 20  to  50 
v.— 50  to  100 
VI.— 100  to  500 
VII.— 500  to  1,000 
VIII.— Over  1,000 


Change  in  number. 

298  increase. 

1,537 

91G  decrease. 

14,495 

3,295 

40,325  increase. 

1,106 

245 


.ange  per  cent. 
414  %  increase. 


12 

6 

26 

4 

72 

542 

681 


decrease. 


Net  decrease  in  farms  under  100  acres. 


.16,871 


Increase  in  farms  over  100  acres 41,676 

In  the  face  of  these  figures,  will  Professor  Walker  assert 
that  the  average  size  of  farms  in  New  York  has  decreased 
rom  103  acres  to  99  acres  ? 

Now,  let  us  take  the  case  of  Georgia,  in  which  Professor 
Walker  dwells  as  the  typical  Southern  State. 

The  census  total  gives : 

GEORGIA. 

Total  Number  of 


acreage. 
1870—23,647,941 
1880—26,043,282 


farms. 

69,956 

138,626 


Average  size 
of  farms. 
338  acres. 


Increase..    2,395,341  68,670  150  acres  decrease. 

From  the  table  of  specified  classes  we  find  the  increnee 
to  have  been  : 

CHANGES   IN   NUMBER   OF   FARMS   IN   GEORGIA,    DECADE 
ENDING   1880. 

Class.                                             Change  in  number. 
I.— Under  3  acres No  return  for  1870. 


Change  per  cent. 


II.— 3  to  10 
III.— 10  to  20 
IV.— 20  to  50 
v.— 50  to  100 
VI.— 100  to  500 
VII.— 500  to  1,000 
VIII.— Over  1,000 


147  decrease. 
.  1,752  increase. 
.14,553 
.  7,683        " 
.36,145 
.  5,511 
.  3,072        " 


4 

25 

66 

41 

206 

365 

733 


decrease, 
increase. 


THE  CENSUS  REPORT  ON  THE  SIZE  OF  FARMS.       355 

After  verifying  these  figures,  will  Professor  Walker  again 
assert,  on  the  authority  of  the  census,  that,  during  the  last 
decade,  there  has  been  a  gain  of  about  10  per  cent  in  acre- 
age, and  almost  100  per  cent  in  farms  in  Georgia,  and  that 
the  average  size  of  farms  has  been  reduced  from  338  acres  to 
188  acres  ? 

It  is,  of  course,  manifest  in  the  case  of  Georgia  as  in  cases 
of  Connecticut  and  New  York,  and  of  the  United  States  at 
large,  that  the  real  movement  has  been  in  the  other  direc- 
tion— to  the  large  increase  instead  of  to  the  reduction  of  the 
average  of  farms.  If  we  endeavor,  from  the  data  which  the 
census  gives  us,  to  work  out  some  approximation  to  the 
true  average,  our  first  step  will  be  to  ascertain  what  aver- 
ages in  the  various  classes  reported  for  1870  will  give  the 
total  acreage  for  that  year.  The  moment  we  attempt  this- 
we  run  against  an  astounding  fact.  The  figures  I  am  about 
to  give  I  expressly  commend  to  Superintendent  Walker, 
but  I  request  him  to  remember  that  it  is  he,  not  I,  who  is 
responsible  for  them.  What  has  he  to  say  to  the  fact  that, 
in  order  to  make  the  acreage  of  the  farms  returned  for 
Georgia  by  specified  classes  for  1870  correspond  with  the 
total  acreage  given  for  that  year  on  which  his  calculation  of 
average  has  been  based,  it  is  necessary  to  assume  the  very  high- 
est limit  of  each  class  as  the  average  of  that  class,  and  even  then 
to  assume  the  average  of  the  class  over  1,000  acres  to  be  24,558 
acres  ? 

Here  is  the  tabulation  : 

FARM  ACREAGE  OP  GEORGIA,  1870. 

Total  farm  acreage  of  Georgia  for  1870,  as  given  by  the  Cen- 
sus Report .- 23,617,941 

Total  number  of  farms 69,956 


ACREAGE   BY   SPECIFIED    CLASSES. 

Average 
acreage. 

II.— 3  to  10      acres 10 

20 

50 

100 

500 

1,000 

24,558 


Class. 


Ill— 10  to  20 
IV.— 20  to  50 
v.— 50  to  100 
VI.— 100  to  500 
VII.— 500  to  1,000 
VIII.— Over  1,000 


No. 
farms. 
3,257 

Acres. 

32,570 

6,942 

1.38,840 

21,971 

1,098,550 

18,371 

1,837,100 

17,490 

8,745,000 

1,506 

1,506,000 

419 

10,289,802 

69,956 

23,647,862 

356  APPENDIX. 

After  this,  it  would  be  wasting  space  and  time  to  go 
further.  Whoever  wants  to  figure  out  what,  at  this  rate, 
has  been  the  increase  of  farm  acreage  in  Georgia  during 
the  decade,  or  what  was  the  average  in  1880,  may  do  so. 
The  Census  Report  offers  opportunities  for  much  amusing 
arithmetical  exercise ;  but,  save  for  this  purpose,  it  is  evi- 
dently not  worth  the  paper  on  which  it  is  printed.  I  have 
conclusively  shown  its  utter  unreliability,  both  as  a  whole 
and  in  its  parts,  and  with  this,  must  decline  further  con- 
troversy. Henry  George. 

New  York,  June  15, 1883. 


II. 

CONDITION   OF   ENGLISH   AGRICULTURAL   LABORERS. 

The  following  communication,  from  Mr.  William  Saun- 
ders, of  London,  was  called  forth  by  a  letter  signed  "A  Free- 
born Englishman,"  in  which  some  of  the  statements  made 
in  Chapter  X  of  this  book  were  in  general  terms  denied. 

New  York.  July  24, 1883. 
To  the  Editor  of  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated  Newspaper  : 

Sir:  "A  Freeborn  Englishman,"  who  "emphatically 
denies  "  the  accuracy  of  Mr.  George's  statements,  is  at  a  loss 
to  conceive  from  what  source  he  obtained  his  information. 
On  this  point  I  may  enlighten  him,  as  I  can  state  from 
experience  that  Mr.  George  gained  his  knowledge  by  per- 
sonal investigation  in  the  location  to  which  he  refers, 
I  wish  that  I  could  sustain  the  rose-colored  view  which  "  A 
Freeborn  Englishman  "  takes  of  the  condition  of  the  agricul- 
tural laborer  in  England.  For  fifty  years  I  have  been  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  state  of  agriculture  in  the 
southern  part  of  the  country,  and  during  that  time  the 
standard  wages  have  varied  from  one  and  a  half  to  three 
and  a  half  dollars  per  week.  In  Wiltshire,  at  the  present 
time,  the  wages  are  from  two-and-a-quarter  to  three  dollars 
per  week.  It  must  be  noted  that  these  are  the  wages  not  of 
boys  but  of  married  men,  and  that  they  are  the  total  wages; 
no  food  is  given,  and,  as  a  rule,  the  laborers  pay  rent  for 
a  cottage,  and  always  a  very  high  rent  for  garden  land,  if  they 
have  any.  Even  the  highest  rate  named  is  quite  inade- 
quate to  provide  a  family  with  sufficient  food  of  the  plainest 
kind.  It  costs  four  dollars  per  week  to  provide  food  for 
five  persons  in  the  poorhouses  of  Wiltshire.  Thus,  if  a 
man  with  a  wife  and  three  children  spend  all  his  wages  for 
food  he  would  still  be  short  of  the  poorhouse  allowance, 
which  is  calculated  at  a  very  low  rate. 

The  statement  of  "  A  Freeborn  Englishman  "  that  it  is  a 
rare  thing  for  the  aged  of  the  industrial  classes  to  go  to  the 
workhouse  is  entirely  contrary  to  my  experience,  and  I  may 

357 


358  APPENDIX, 

ask  how  is  it  possible  for  a  man  to  save  for  old  age  when  the 
laborer  has  to  maintain  himself  and  his  family  upon  a  sum 
with  which  economical  poor  law  guardians  cannot  support 
paupers  ? 

As  to  commons,  they  not  only  have  been,  but  are  being 
inclosed  by  the  owners  of  land.  This  is  also  the  case  with 
spaces  on  the  roadside,  so  that  the  working-classes  have 
lost  the  means  they  formerly  had  for  maintaining  cows, 
donkeys  or  geese,  and  children  have  been  deprived  of  their 
ancient  playgrounds.  As  to  footpaths,  these  are  often 
closed  ;  but  your  correspondent  is  right  when  he  says  that 
interrupting  an  ancient  highway  excites  the  indignation  of 
the  people,  and  sometimes  they  tear  down  the  obstruction. 
They  did  so  recently  in  a  case  where  Mr.  E.  P.  Bouverie 
shut  up  a  path  near  Devizes,  in  Wiltshire.  Legal  proceed- 
ings were  taken,  and,  although  it  was  proved  that  the  public 
had  enjoyed  the  use  of  the  footway  for  over  a  century,  yet 
the  landlord  was  enabled  to  show  that  during  this  period 
the  estate  had  been  entailed,  so  that  no  owner  had  the 
power  to  give  the  public  a  right  of  way,  and  thus  the  path 
was  closed.  By  these  and  similar  provisions  in  laws  en- 
acted by  landlords,  it  is  possible  for  a  landlord  to  make  con- 
stant encroachments  upon  the  public ;  for,  if  he  maintains 
a  claim  for  twenty  years  it  is  established  in  his  favor,  but 
no  length  of  time  can  legalize  the  possession  by  the  public 
against  a  claim  raised  by  the  owners  of  a  family  estate. 
Thus,  all  the  time  family  estates  are  growing  and  the  public 
are  losing. 

In  referring  to  a  case  near  London,  "  A  Freeborn  English- 
man" is  misleading  your  readers.  The  people  of  London 
insisted  upon  exempting  an  area  of  fifteen  miles  around 
that  city  from  the  operation  of  Commons  Inclosure  Acts, 
and,  therefore,  the  instance  to  which  he  refers  does  not 
apply  to  England  generally. 

It  must  be  puzzling  to  Americans  to  meet  with  such 
different  statements  respecting  English  laborers,  and  as 
your  correspondent  does  not  give  the  public  his  name  or 
address,  it  may  be  allowable  to  test  his  assertions  by  the 
internal  evidence  which  his  letter  affords  on  the  subject  of 
his  accuracy.  He  boldly  asserts  that  "  an  equal  distribution 
of  property  is  the  general  principle  that  underlies"  Mr. 
George's  article.  I  challenge  him  to  refer  to  a  single  para- 
graph in  any  of  the  voluminous  writings  of  Mr.  George 
which  justifies  the  idea  that  he  advocates  an  equal  distribu- 
tion of  property.  Mr.  George's  writings  are  a  protest 
against  the  confiscation  by  landlords  of  property  created  by 
industry,  and  the  statement  that  he  advocates  an  equal  dis- 
tribution of  property  is  entirely  unfounded. 


CONDITION    OF    ENGLISH   AGRICULTURAL    LABORERS.    359 


Neither  is  your  correspondent  more  happy  in  the  asser- 
tion of  his  own  principles  than  in  his  misrepresentation  of 
Mr,  George's  views.  He  tells  us  that  "a  man  obtains  in 
England,  as  in  America  and  elsewhere,  just  so  much  for  his 
labor  as  his  labor  is  worth,  according  to  the  law  of  supply 
and  demand."  One  illustration  from  each  side  of  the  At- 
lantic will  disprove  this  assertion.  In  Wiltshire,  England, 
thousands  of  acres  of  excellent  land  are  uncultivated,  while 
thousands  of  half-starved  but  willing  workmen  demand  an 
opportunity  for  growing  food  for  themselves  and  families. 
The  land  remains  out  of  cultivation,  and  the  laborers  remain 
without  work,  solely  because  a  landlord  stands  upon  the  land, 
and  says  to  every  farmer  who  wants  to  cultivate  it,  "  You 
shall  not  do  so  unless  you  pay  me,  six  dollars  an  acre  per 
annum,  with  an  increase  in  future  if  I  choose  to  demand  it 
at  the  expiration  of  any  year,"  If  a  workingman  comes  to 
the  landlord  and  says  to  him,  "  Please  let  me  have  five  acres 
of  that  land,  upon  which  I  will  work  and  grow  food  for  my 
own  family  and  others,"  the  landlord  replies,  "  You  shall 
not  have  that  land  unless  you  pay  me  fifteen  dollars  an  acre 
per  annum  "  ;  and  when  the  workingman  asks  why  it  is  pro- 
posed to  charge  him  so  much  more  than  is  charged  the 
farmer,  the  landlord  tells  him,  "  We  do  not  want  working- 
men  to  have  land,  lest  the  farmers  should  be  unable  to  ob- 
tain laborers."  Thus  the  land  remains  out  of  cultivation, 
and  the  laborer  without  work  and  without  food,  because  the 
landlord  stands  between  demand  and  supply. 

In  New  Jersey,  not  far  from  where  I  am  writing,  thou- 
sands of  acres  of  land  are  producing  miasma  and  musquitoes. 
Thousands  of  willing  hands  would  drain  this  land  and  cover 
it  with  houses  and  manufactories,  but  in  the  meantime  a 
landlord's  agent  stands  upon  the  marsh  and  demands,  in  the 
name  of  a  man  who  has  done  nothing,  a  payment  of  one 
thousand  dollars  or  two  thousand  dollars  an  acre  before  he 
will  allow  the  musquitoes  to  be  suppressed  and  houses  and 
factories  to  be  erected. 

Under  these  circumstances  your  correspondent  may  well 
say,  "  I  should  be  glad  to  learn  where  in  this  country,  or  in 
any  other  country  on  the  globe,  does  a  man  who  has  not 
capital  obtain  the  'full  fruits  of  his  labor'?"  True  it  is 
that  those  who  have  capital  and  those  who  can  avail  them- 
selves of  the  unjust  privileges  which  law  allows  to  capital, 
in  connection  with  the  possession  of  land,  are  the  only  per- 
sons who  can  obtain  the  full  fruits  of  their  own  or  other 
persons'  labor;  and  if  the  universality  of  injustice  is  a  sound 
reason  for  upholding  it,  then  undoubtedly  Mr.  George  is  in 
the  wrong. 


360  APPENDIX. 

I  am  willing  to  admit,  as  "A  Freeborn  Englishman  "  con- 
tends, that  in  some  respects  the  agricultural  laborer  is  better 
off  than  his  brother  laborer  in  the  crowded  cities  of  Europe 
and  America ;  but,  gracious  heaven !  is  this  a  matter  for 
thankfulness  ?  I  have  had  to  spend  the  summer  in  New 
York,  and  with  every  alleviation  that  can  be  provided,  my 
fate  has  been  hard  enough  ;  but  what  must  be  the  condition 
of  families  crowded  into  tenement-houses  during  the  sum- 
mer heat?  No  man  ought  to  think  of  it  without  a  deter- 
mination to  do  all  in  his  power  to  lessen  such  terrible  suffer- 
ing. And  this  suffering,  in  New  York  and  other  cities,  is 
the  direct  and  immediate  result  of  landlordism.  In  London, 
landlords  demand  and  receive  thirty  millions  of  dollars  an- 
nually from  the  working-classes,  and  they  are  constantly 
raising  their  demands.  This  is  the  cause  of  overcrowding. 
Every  month  landlords  kill  more  children  than  Herod  de- 
stroyed in  his  lifetime;  and  yet,  as  your  correspondent 
reminds  us,  they  are  men  of  excellent  character.  That  they 
are  all  honorable  men,  I  do  not  dispute  ;  but  the  circum- 
stance does  not  lessen  the  fearful  consequences  of  the  system 
of  which  they  are  the  agents.  It  is  not  of  abuses  that  we 
complain,  but  of  the  necessary  consequences  of  landlordism, 
which,  like  a  huge  vise,  crushes  the  masses  of  the  people 
with  more  horrible  effect  at  every  turn  of  the  screw.  In- 
dustry, intelligence  and  invention  hold  out  promises  of 
improvement  whi^h  seem  to  be  almost  within  our  reach, 
but  before  they  are  obtained  the  landlord  advances  his 
claims  and  the  result  is  disappointment  and  misery.  If  this 
state  of  things  continues,  it  will  be  the  fault,  not  of  the  land- 
lords, but  of  workingmen  who  have  the  power,  and  should 
have  the  determination,  to  deliver  themselves  and  their 
children  from  a  fatal  influence.    I  am, 

Yours  respectfully,  William  Saunders. 


III. 

A  PIECE  OF  LAND. 

BY    FRANCIS   G.   SHAW. 

Scene— ^  Common.    Labor  diggmg  the  ground  with  a  stick,  to  plant  potatoes. 
Capital  pass^ing  with  a  spade  on  his  shoulder. 

Labor.  I  say,  Capital,  shall  you  use  your  spade  this  year? 

Capital.  No,  I'm  going  a-fishing. 

Labor.  Lend  it  to  me,  then. 

Capital.  Why  should  I  ? 

Labor.  As  a  good  neighbor.  You  don't  want  it,  and  it 
would  be  a  great  help  to  me.  I  could  plant  more  ground, 
and,  perhaps,  raise  fifty  more  bushels  of  potatoes,  if  I  had  it. 

Capital.  That's  a  very  one-sided  reason.  You'd  wear  it 
out  by  the  end  of  the  year.  You'd  have  your  fifty  bushels 
extra,  and  I  should  have  no  spade.  You'd  be  so  much  bet- 
ter off,  and  I  should  be  so  much  worse  off  than  I  am  now. 
There's  not  much  good  neighborhood  in  that. 

Labor.  Oh,  I'd  give  it  back  to  you  just  as  good  as  it  is 
now ;  or  I'd  make  a  new  one  for  you. 

[Note.— This  is  the  necessary  maintenance  or  replacement  of  capi- 
tal which  is  consumed  by  use.] 

Capital.  That's  rather  better,  but  still  it's  not  fair.  You'd 
have  your  fifty  bushels  more,  which  you  couldn't  have 
raised  without  my  spade,  while  I  should  be  no  better  ofi" 
than  I  am  now.  No,  thank  you !  I'll  keep  my  spade.  Go 
make  one  for  yourself.    It  took  me  ten  days  to  make  this. 

Labor.  Yes,  but  this  is  the  season  for  planting,  and  I 
haven't  the  time  to  spare ;  I  want  to  use  it  now.  I  can't  see 
why  you  shouldn't  let  me  have  it  as  well  as  leave  it  to  rust, 
which  it  will  since  you're  not  going  to  use  it. 

361 


362  APPENDIX. 

Capital.  It's  not  going  to  rust.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  mean 
to  do  with  it:  Farmer  wants  a  spade  as  well  as  you,  and 
offers  to  give  a  yearling  heifer  in  exchange  for  this  one.  I'm 
on  my  way  now  to  make  the  swap,  and  get  her.  I  shall  turn 
her  out  on  the  common,  and  by  the  end  of  the  year  I  shall 
have  a  cow  with,  perhaps,  a  calf  by  her  side.  Don't  you 
think  she'll  be  worth  a  good  deal  more  than  the  new  spade 
you  offer  ? 

[Note.— Capital  proposes  to  take  advantage  of  the  active  forces  of 
nature  which  manifest  themselves  in  growth  as  well  as  in  the  produc- 
tiveness of  land,  and  which  can  be  made  available  by  Labor,  or  by 
Capital,  the  result  of  Labor.] 

Labor.  Certainly  she  will.  I  never  thought  of  that !  Yes; 
if  you  can  swap  your  spade  for  the  heifer,  you've  a  right  to 
as  much  return  from  one  as  from  the  other.  But  how  much 
do  you  expect  to  gain  if  you  do  make  the  exchange? 

Capital.  I  suppose  quite  as  much  as  ten  bushels  of  your 
potatoes  will  be  worth  when  you  dig  them. 

Labor.  I'll  take  the  spade  and  give  you  a  new  one  and  ten 
bushels  of  potatoes.    Will  that  satisfy  you  ? 

Capital.  I've  rather  set  my  heart  on  the  heifer,  and,  be- 
sides, your  crop  may  fail. 

Labor.  I  hope  not;  it  never  has.  However,  there  is 
some  little  risk,  I  admit,  and  I'll  give  you  twelve  bushels 
instead  often.    What  do  you  say  ? 

Capital.  It's  a  bargain!  Here's  the  spade,  and  I'll  go 
and  see  about  my  boat. 

[Note.— Thus  Labor  employs  the  wealth  which  Capital  has  accumu- 
lated by  his  past  labor,  and  as  both  are  interested  in  the  crop,  Labor 
and  Capital  become  partners.  The  ten  bushels  which  Capital  is  to 
receive  for  the  use  of  the  spade  may  be  called  interest,  to  which  he  is 
justly  entitled,  from  his  ability  to  exchange  the  spade  for  something 
which  will  give  him  an  equal  profit  by  its  mere  growth,  and  the  other 
two  bushels  are  for  insurance  against  the  risk  of  a  failure  of  the  crop.] 

Enter  Landowner. 

Landowner  {leaning  over  fence) .  Hullo,  Labor!  What  are 
you  at  work  on  that  moorland  for  ?  The  soil  is  much  better 
on  this  side  of  the  fence.  You  can  raise  fifty  bushels  more 
potatoes  here  than  you  can  there,  with   the  same  work. 


A   PIECE   OF   LAND.  36S 

You'd  much  better  hire  this  lot  of  me ;  I  wouldn't  charge 
you  much  for  the  use  of  it. 

Labor.  It's  true  that  the  soil  is  better,  and  I  should 
plant  there  if  you  hadn't  fenced  it  in;  but  you  know  as  well 
as  I  do  that  this  common  is  free,  and  that  everything  I  can 
raise  on  it  is  mine;  while  if  I  should  plant  on  that  side  of 
the  fence  you'd  clap  me  into  jail  for  trespassing,  or  else 
you'd  let  me  raise  a  crop  and  then  take  all  away  from  me, 
unless  I  came  to  your  terms.  The  laws  seem  to  be  made 
for  you  landowners !  What  right  had  you  to  fence  in  the 
best  land?  It  was  all  common  once.  If  you  were  culti- 
vating it,  I  wouldn't  have  a  word  to  say;  your  right  to  it  is 
as  good  as  mine,  or  that  of  anybody  else ;  but  it's  no  better, 
and  I  don't  see  what  right  you  have  to  keep  me  off  of  it, 
when  you  don't  want  to  cultivate  it  yourself. 

Landowner.  1  did  cultivate  it  for  some  years,  and  I  fenced 
it  to  keep  the  cattle  away  ;  I  hauled  off  the  stone  and  drained 
it,  and  got  good  crops. 

Labor.   Did  the  crops  repay  you  for  what  you  laid  out? 

Landowner.  Pretty  well,  you  may  believe ;  you  don't  sup- 
pose that  I  was  such  a  fool  as  to  make  the  improvements  if 
I  hadn't  been  sure  of  that.  But  I've  got  some  better  land 
that  I  mean  to  till  this  year,  and  I  should  like  to  let  this  lot 
to  you  at  a  fair  rent. 

Labor.  Yes ;  I  suppose  you  have  taken  the  cream  out  of 
this.    But  what  do  you  call  a  fair  rent  ? 

Landowner.  Let  me  see !  The  land  is  still  a  good  deal 
better  than  the  common,  and  easier  to  work  than  when  I 
enclosed  it.  The  drains  are  there,  and  there  are  no  stones 
on  the  ground;  besides,  the  fence  is  good  for  three  years, 
and  you'll  have  to  fence  your  common  lot  if  you  want  to 
make  a  crop.  That's  something  for  you  to  consider.  These 
are  real  advantages. 

Labor.  Yes,  that's  so.  Well !  I  think  it  will  be  fair  if  I 
agree  to  give  you  one-third  the  value  of  the  fence  ;  say,  ten 
bushels  of  potatoes,  and  five  bushels  more  on  account  of  the 
other  improvements. 


364  APPENDIX. 

Landowner.  Will  you  keep  the  fence  in  as  good  repair 
as  it  is  now  ? 

Labor.  No ;  fifteen  bushels  is  as  much  as  I  can  afford  to 
give. 

Landowner.  And  how  much  will  you  give  for  the  use  of 
the  land  ? 

Labor.  Nothing  whatever.  I  pay  you  so  much  for  the  use 
of  your  improvements,  and  that's  so  much  gain  to  you,  for 
you've  already  been  well  paid  for  them  by  the  crops  you've 
taken  off,  which  have  diminished  the  fertility  of  the  soil. 
I'm  willing  to  pay  for  the  benefit  I  shall  derive  from 
them,  and  nothing  else.  If  you  won't  let  me  have  the  land 
for  the  fifteen  bushels,  I'll  stick  to  the  common ;  I  can  do 
about  as  well  here.  But  you  haven't  told  me  what  right 
you  had  to  fence  in  the  best  land,  and  call  it  yours  ? 

Landowner.    The  king  gave  it  to  me. 

Labor.  What  right  had  the  king  to  take  away  the  people's 
land,  and  give  it  to  you  ? 

Landowner.  No  matter  whether  he  had  the  right  or  not ; 
he  had  the  might.  The  land  is  mine,  and  you  cannot  culti- 
vate it  without  my  permission. 

Labor.  Well!  We  won't  discuss  the  question  of  right  just 
now.  Will  you  let  me  have  the  lot  for  the  year  at  the  price 
I  offer  ? 

Landowner.  Yes ;  you  may  have  it.  It's  so  much  gain 
to  me;  but  if  it  wasn't  for  that  confounded  common  you 
should  pay  more. 


ANOTHER   YEAR. 

{In  the  meanwhile  Landowner  has  succeeded  in  getting 
through  Parliament  an  Act  authorizing  him  to  enclose  the  com- 
mon, and  has  taken  possession.  He  has  accordingly  fenced  in 
the  whole  of  it.  Not  against  cattle  this  time,  but  against 
Labor.) 

Labor,  going  to  Landowner.  Please,  sir,  as  the  common  is 
enclosed,  I've  now  no  free  land  to  work  upon,  and  I  should 


ANOTHER   YEAR.  365 

be  very  glad  to  hire  that  same  lot  of  you  for  another 
year. 

Landowner.  Humph!  You  did  pretty  well  on  that  lot 
last  year,  didn't  you  ? 

Labor.  Yes,  sir  !  I  was  able  to  give  Capital  a  new  spade, 
besides  paying  him  for  the  use  of  his ;  and  I  had  enough 
over  to  keep  my  family  in  comfort  after  paying  you  the  rent. 

Landowner.  And  you  expect  to  get  the  land  for  the  same 
rent  this  year  ? 

Labor.  I  hope  that  you  will  let  me  have  it  on  the  same 
terms,  sir.  If  I'm  obliged  to  pay  more  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  give  Capital  so  much  for  the  use  of  his  spade,  and  my 
family  will  suffer  for  want  of  the  comforts  to  which  they 
have  been  accustomed. 

Landowner.  That's  none  of  my  business.  Capital  must 
be  content  with  a  smaller  return,  and  you  must  reduce  the 
expenses  of  your  family.  There's  no  common  for  you  to 
cultivate  now,  or  for  him  to  pasture  his  heifer  on.  You  must 
both  of  you  cut  your  coat  according  to  your  cloth,  and  wear 
your  old  clothes  when  you  have  no  cloth. 

Labor.  I'm  aware  of  that,  sir,  and  can  only  hope  that 
you  will  consider  my  circumstances. 

Landowner.  What  I  shall  consider  will  be  my  own  inter- 
est. I  shall  manage  my  estate  on  strictly  business  princi- 
ples. You  paid  me  fifteen  bushels  of  potatoes  on  account 
of  my  improvements  last  year.  We  agreed  upon  that  as 
fair,  didn't  we  ? 

Labor.   Yes,  sir. 

Landowner.  Well !  I'll  be  easy  with  you  and  charge  you 
no  more  this  year  ;  but  you  must  keep  the  fence  in  repair. 

Labor.  It  will  be  very  hard  on  me,  sir  ;  taking  so  much 
from  the  support  of  my  family,  but  I  suppose  that  I  must  do 
as  you  say  ;  and  if  I  must,  I  must. 

Landowner.  Now  how  much  will  you  agree  to  give  me  for 
the  use  of  my  land  ?  Last  year  you  wouldn't  give  me  any- 
thing, and  I  had  to  come  to  your  terms,  because  you  had  the 
common  to  fall  back  upon.  This  year  there's  no  common, 
and  you've  got  to  come  to  mine. 


366  APPENDIX. 

Labor.  I  hope,  sir,  that  they  will  be  such  as  to  enable  me 
to  live  and  keep  my  family  comfortably,  which  will  be  hard 
work  enough  now,  with  the  additional  work  I'm  obliged  to 
put  upon  the  fence. 

Landowner.  Comfortably !  I  doii't  know  and  I  don't  care. 
You  ought  to  be  satisfied  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  not 
talk  about  luxuries.  But  there's  no  use  in  wasting  any  more 
talk  about  the  matter.  The  rent  of  the  lot  for  this  year  is 
fifty  bushels  in  all. 

Labor.    But,  sir, — 

Landowner.    But  me  no  Buts.    That's  the  rent. 

Labor.  We  shall  starve,  sir,  and  then  your  land  will  be  of 
no  use  to  you.    You  must  have  somebody  to  cultivate  it. 

Landowner.  There's  something  in  that ;  but,  as  I  said, 
fifty  bushels  is  the  rent.  You  know  that  you  must  take  the 
land  at  my  price,  and  I  know  you'll  make  the  shift  to  pull 
through.  If  you  can't,  and  I  find  that  you  really  haven't 
enough  to  live  on,  perhaps  I'll  not  exact  the  whole  of  the 
rent,  but  let  a  part  remain  in  arrears,  for  you  to  make  up 
when  you  have  an  extra  good  year,  and  I  will  give  you 
some  of  the  small  potatoes  in  charity,  to  keep  you  alive  and 
out  of  the  poorhouse  —  where  (aside)  I  should  have  to  pay 
for  the  whole  support  of  you  and  your  family. 


\_From  the  Boston  Globe."] 
Since  Mrs.  Frank  Leslie  assumed  the  sole 
management,  the  brilliancy  and  success  of  the 
Leslie  publications  have  won  for  them  even 
greater  popularity  than  they  previously  had.  Her 
editorial  ability  is  granted  by  the  press,  and  is 
shovrn  in  the  variety  and  excellence  of  the  mat- 
ter promptly  placed  by  her  before  the  public.  It 
is  her  policy  to  produce  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment,  regardless  of  expense,  whatever  of  mo- 
ment takes  place  in  any  section  of  this  country. 
She  relies  for  assistance  upon  a  corps  of  the  best 
artists,  who,  with  pencil  and  pen,  are  scattered 
here  and  there  to  illustrate  the  most  interesting 
scenes.  Each  issue  of  Frank  Leslie's  Illustrated 
Newspaper  faithfully  pictures  the  most  important 
events,  and  a  bound  volume  is  an  invaluable 
history  of  the  year. 


367 


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